


Hero: Tahira's Story

by Glamourchick1668



Category: Choices: Hero (Visual Novel)
Genre: Multi, fan novel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-28
Updated: 2020-01-03
Packaged: 2021-02-25 23:48:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 15
Words: 77,446
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21994003
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Glamourchick1668/pseuds/Glamourchick1668
Summary: Tahira seems to have everything going for her. Then, her life will be turned upside-down by an accident that leaves her with superhuman abilities. (Fan novel)
Relationships: Dax Darcisse/Poppy Patel, Grayson Prescott/Main Character (Hero)
Comments: 2
Kudos: 3





	1. An Ordinary Day

**Author's Note:**

> This is a Hero fan novelization, similar to the ones I did of the Endless Summer books. It involves the same Hero MC who shows up in my story "Daughter of Vaanu." I actually wrote this one as a Christmas present for my mother, who read my first three Endless Summer novels, but has never played Choices. I wanted her to get to know the characters before throwing her into Book Four. But, I figured I could share it with everyone here, too. Enjoy!

_The city lies in ruins around me. The sky is a hellish burnt orange. But I am a hero, walking confidently through the wreckage of shattered skyscrapers towards my enemy._

_“Where are you?! Come and face me!”_

_A figure wreathed in chaotic purple energy rises out of the flames._

_“I'm not hiding!” they snarl. “You're the one who's hiding. You've been hiding all your life!”_

_“What do you mean? Hiding from what?”_

_“From yourself. From what you truly are. You haven't even begun to comprehend the power within you.”_

_“Maybe so. But I know enough to finish this!”_

_“No, this is not the end. Soon, you'll realize that this is only the beginning!”_

_I strike a heroic pose, prepared to summon my power. Whoever this evildoer is, they will soon learn that I can't be defeated. At least, until the sound of a terrible, shrieking klaxon shoots through my head, driving me to my knees in agony. Augh! What is this?! Some sort of torture device? A sonic death ray?!_

...No...it's just my morning alarm. So, torture device. I groan, slapping groggily at my bedside table for the shut-off button. All right already, you evil little thing. I'm up. I'm up. I'm... My finger finds the correct button just as the red numbers on the digital clock slide into focus. ...Nine...one...five...

“--LATE!” I yelp aloud, throwing back the covers and launching myself out of bed. “Very, very late!”

I throw open my closet doors. I showered last night, so at least I'm not filthy. Which is a blessing, because there is no way I'd have time now. I dig through the clutter in my closet to find the department store bag I stashed there yesterday afternoon. I spent a chunk of my savings on a new outfit specifically to wear today. Yanking out the clothes, I stumble into a pair of black slacks, a crisp white blouse, and a blue blazer with an elegant floral print. I grab a simple pendant of cubic zirconia and a pair of matching earrings from my jewelry box. I get those on as I rush into the bathroom to brush my teeth. I briefly debate whether to bother with makeup, then settle for grabbing the makeup bag with the intent to either do it on the train, or in the bathroom when I get to work. With no time for breakfast, I grab a banana and tuck it into my purse before snatching my keys off the counter and rushing out the door.

I'm about two blocks from the train station. I hit the pavement at a run, ignoring the whines of protest from my still-sleepy leg muscles as I dodge pedestrians. As the station comes into view, I can see the train paused on the tracks, doors open to admit the commuters on the platform. _Come on, come on...don't leave without me..._

It's futile. I know it is. I've been in this situation before. And yet, every time I think if I just run a little bit faster, I'll make it before the doors slide shut...

...Nope. I hit the platform just in time to see the two rubber-lined edges of the doors on each car come mockingly together. I groan and grind to a halt as the train glides merrily away, oblivious to the straggler on the platform. I grit my teeth, trying to ignore the commuters still on the platform, waiting for the train traveling in the opposite direction. I could try to pretend I'm not a walking disaster this morning, act casual as if I didn't totally just miss my train, but it would be pointless. I'm still trying to catch my breath. Of all the days to be late to work...

I glance up at the scrolling digital marquee over the platform. Next train is in seven minutes. I sigh. Well, barring any further delays, maybe I can get there before I'm more than ten minutes late. Plopping resignedly down on the bench, I pull out my makeup bag and a hand mirror. The next train pulls up just as I'm finishing. Within twenty minutes, I finally arrive at the Prescott Industries building in the center of downtown Northbridge, a massive glass skyscraper glistening in the spring morning sunlight. I pull out my phone to check the time. To my relief, I'm only about seven minutes behind. Perfectly forgivable, right?

“Tahira! Wait up!”

I turn at the sound of my name and see a familiar figure trotting toward me as fast as she can manage while carrying two iced lattes. A trendy-looking young woman with dark brown hair bouncing over her shoulders. Poppy Patel. My best friend. Who doesn't actually work in the same building. And who I'm quite sure does have to be at her own job this morning. I raise an eyebrow as she approaches.

“What are you doing here?”

She stops beside me, grinning. “Bringing you an iced latte to kick start your big day, of course! You’re gonna need it now that you're in charge of planning the biggest social event of the season!” She presses one of the cups into my hand. “Speaking of which, you didn't happen to snag your favorite person in the whole world an invite, did you?”

I smirk. “So, this latte comes with a few strings attached, huh?”

“No! Well, maybe a little bit. But you _did_ say last week you would try to get me into the gala. And all the best and brightest and most fashionable people in Northbridge will be there. I mean, Prescott unveiling new tech is always major.”

“Silas Prescott said his new invention would 'change the world as we know it',” I concede. “Of course, he says that about every invention of his. Then again, he's usually right.”

“So...what is it?”

“What's what?”

“Silas Prescott's new world-changing invention?”

“No clue. I work for Grayson, not his father. Remember? It's gonna be just as big a surprise to me.”

But I saw Poppy's mind shift gears the moment I mentioned my boss' name. A conspiratorial grin spreads across her lips. I mentally brace myself.

“Ahh, yes. Grayson Prescott. The handsome, charming heir apparent.” But just when I think she's going to get on me about Grayson, she switches gears again back to her original purpose. “You could ask _him_ to invite me, right? I'm sure he couldn't say no to his favorite executive assistant.”

“You mean his _only_ executive assistant.”

She ignores me. “If I can get the inside scoop on the gala, I'll be a shoo-in for the promotion to _Motif's_ senior fashion editor. I _need_ this, Tahira.”

“I know, Poppy. I know. This is big for me, too.”

“Okay! Then get in there and do the best job you possibly can with the gala preparations and Grayson will be too impressed to say no.” She grasps my arm, looking earnestly into my eyes. “I _promise_ I'll find some way to pay you back.”

“Ahh, knock it off. You don't need to owe me for this.”

Poppy squeals excitedly. “You're the best, Tahira! Have I ever told you that?”

“Many times,” I assure her. “But I never get tired of hearing it. But right now, I _really_ have to get in there, as I am about to be more than fashionably late, and I am guessing you are, too.”

“Yes, but fashionably late is part of _my_ job.” Still, she steps away to trot down the sidewalk towards her own work building. “Good luck today! Don't forget to talk to Grayson!”

I sigh, shaking my head fondly as I stick the straw of my latte in my mouth and suck up a cold, milky-sweet mouthful. Oh, God, I didn't realize how badly I was already craving caffeine. The risk of brain freeze is all that keeps me from slurping up half the cup before I've even pushed through the glass doors into the lobby. Grayson Prescott is already there, directing the workman as they set up the decorations for tonight's gala.

“Bring those tables through here,” he calls. “We'll want to give our guests the best possible view at tonight's unveiling.”

The heels of my pumps click hollowly on the lobby's marble floors as I approach him. Alerted to my presence, he turns to smile at me. I try to ignore the flutter in my stomach. Grayson is what you might call 'classically handsome.' Tall, lantern-jawed, perfectly coifed sandy-blond hair, sapphire-blue eyes. He's not built like an athlete or anything, but he's trim and fit, and damned if he doesn't look dreamy in a suit.

“Tahira, there you are. New look?”

It takes me a moment to remember that I'm wearing all-new clothes this morning. “Yeah, actually.”

“I like it.”

I feel my cheeks warming. “Thanks. Sorry I'm late, by the way.”

“...You are?”

“Maybe I shouldn't have mentioned it.”

He chuckles. “Well, it's all right. You're here now.”

“Yes, I am. How are the preparations going, Mr. Prescott?”

He pulls a face, pretending to grimace. “Oh, come on, Tahira. I've told you before, Mr. Prescott is my father. Call me Grayson, please. I mean, you called me Grayson in college.”

“In college, you weren't my boss. And I always call you Grayson if there's no one else around I need to act professional in front of.”

“Okay, but lately I've noticed the 'Mr. Prescott' habit working its way in when it's just you and me in the office. As your boss, you have my permission to drop it completely.”

“All right, all right. In that case, Grayson, I was hoping to ask you about something--”

“Ms. Rogers!” I wince. Marjorie Miles, Director of Operations, marches over to join us, gray eyes narrowed behind her thick-framed glasses. “It's about time you showed up!”

“It's only a quarter past--”

“A quarter past the time you were _supposed_ to be here!” she snaps. She gives me a quick once over and grunts. “But at least it can be said you were late because you actually made an effort with your appearance this morning.”

I actually feel pleased to be on the receiving end of Marjorie's idea of a compliment. Enough that I find myself preening a little as I smile at her. “Thank you.”

“Anyway, Grayson, your father wants a word. It sounded urgent.”

Grayson nods. “Thank you. Tahira, can you handle this on your own?”

“No problem. I got this.”

Marjorie pushes her glasses up her nose, shooting me a sidelong glance. “Don't worry, I'll make sure she doesn't screw anything up too badly.”

I feel myself bristling, but Grayson puts a steadying hand on my shoulder. “I'm sure she won't. I'll see you later Tahira.”

“Good luck!” Grayson heads for the elevators, and Marjorie turns to me, her expression impatient.

“Tonight could be the most important night in the company's history, Ms. Rogers. Do you understand what that means? It means that it's also the most important night of your otherwise unremarkable life. Are you finally ready to do your job and help me?”

I want to snap back, but I take a deep breath instead, blowing it out in a long sigh. My mother always taught me to kill 'em with kindness.

“Marjorie, is everything okay?”

“No, everything is _not_ okay! The Mayor's office had weeks to RSVP with dietary restrictions, and they waited until this morning to let me know that the Mayor is allergic to shellfish! _Shellfish!”_

“Let me guess. ...We're serving shellfish?”

“Thirty pounds of _ceviche de camaron_ we already paid for!” she wails. I have to bite back a smile as I see her thorny facade crack just slightly to reveal the shrimp-induced distress bubbling under the surface.

“All right, that _is_ a problem,” I concede. “But I'm sure I can figure something out.”

“Hmmph. I wish I had as much faith in you as you do. In any case, I need you to call around and find something...not embarrassing to serve for an appetizer at the gala tonight. Do you think you can stop swiping or Pictalking or whatever you young folk do long enough to accomplish one task?”

Okay, maybe the thorns aren't _entirely_ a facade.

“Yes, Marjorie. I can do that.”

I pull my phone out of my pocket and take a seat to begin searching for caterers, taking the opportunity to finally finish my latte while I do. Twenty minutes later, I wave Marjorie over to show her my find.

“Ossetra caviar,” I say triumphantly. “And I found a caterer to take care of it, too.”

“Hmm. Rare. _Expensive._ That could be...acceptable.”

“It'd better be. One serving costs form than I make in a week.”

Marjorie grunts. “Well, since you managed to produce a halfway-decent idea for the appetizer, what do you think we should do with all of this ceviche?”

“Serve it for lunch,” I reply promptly. “There are over a thousand employees in this building alone. If anything, we might not have enough for all of them.”

“Well, I suppose they can fight over it, then. If only we could somehow make it an incentive for them to work harder.”

I snort. “Let's not get _too_ carried away.”

Marjorie draws herself upright, straightening her clothes. “Congratulations on not screwing this up, Ms. Rogers. Keep it up, and you might even be considered semi-competent someday.”

I roll my eyes. “I can't wait.” In spite of myself, though, I feel a small swell of affection for this thistle of a woman. In some ways, she reminds me of a grumpy old cat, growling and whining at everyone.

“Now I need you to go check in with Santiago and Dax and make sure everything is prepared. Report back to Grayson once you've confirmed that they have everything they need.”

I give her a salute. “Got it.”

“Then _why_ are you still standing there? Chop chop!”

* * *

When I reach the engineering lab, it appears empty. Machines are on and whirring, but I see no signs of life.

“Hello? Dax? Anybody here?”

No immediate answer, but I can't imagine it will be long before Dax shows up. He's almost never late to work, and there's no place he could have gone on a break that would be very far. I decide to wait for him, casting my eyes absently over the lab. At the far end of the room, a curtain hides an enormous... _something_ from view. Probably whatever's being unveiled at the gala tonight. I take a few steps toward it, pausing when I become aware of the floor vibrating under my feet. I cautiously take another step, curiosity overwhelming my common sense. Dax probably won't mind if I take a little peak...right? But as I get closer to the curtain, the vibrations under my feet abruptly intensify to tremors that almost feel like a mini earthquake. Wait, could there actually be an earthquake? Is that possible in New England?

Just at that moment, Dax Darcisse slides out from behind a nearby computer console, pushing his goggles up on his dark forehead, forcing his bushy black hair back towards his crown.

“Woah, woah, woah! Tahira, what are you doing?!” he scolds me. “You can't just go touching things in here! For all you know, that could be highly radioactive!”

I immediately leap back in alarm, retreating toward the safety of a table. “Is it?!”

“No,” Dax replies. “It's not radioactive. But it could be, because...science! Besides, I'm still working the kinks out.” He frowns. “I thought everything was fine, but somehow the XD917 crystalline array just activated all on its own...”

“Crystalline what-now?”

Dax's eyes widen, and I see a blush creep into his dark cheeks. “Um, did I say that? I meant 'classified'. 'Redacted'. 'Under NDA'. 'Bleep'.”

“Top secret. Say no more. Anyway, I'm just here to make sure you're all set for the unveiling tonight. Is everything ready?”

Dax leans over, peering at the lines of data streaming over the screen of a nearby console. His forehead wrinkles.

“Huh...weird. Everything seems fine now. I've literally never seen that happen before. You're not carrying any raw promethium around, are you?”

“Not...that I know of?”

“Didn't think so. That is very, very strange. I'm going to run through the system diagnostics once more to be sure...but yeah. All systems green. As much as I understand it anyway. Only Silas knows what it's supposed to do when the power's turned on.”

“Wait, seriously?”

“Yeah. I'm as stoked for the big reveal tonight as you are.”

“Huh. Well, as long as you're all set, I've got a few other things to take care of.” I turn toward the door. Then I pause, turning back. “Just one more thing, though. I thought you might want to know that there's a chance Poppy's coming to the gala tonight.”

I bite back a grin at the way Dax's eyes widen and a blush spreads over his cheeks. “Wh-why would I want to know that?”

“You tell me.” I waggle my eyebrows. “I was definitely getting a _vibe_ at the bar last week.”

“A vibe?” Something like panic crosses his face. “What kind of vibe? From her or from me? I'm confused.”

I can't hold back a snicker. “Yeah, I can see that.”

He shoots me a glare before angling away from me. “I mean...she could never be interested in me like _that..._ could she?”

“Only one way to find out. Although technically, I haven't asked Grayson if I can invite her yet...”

“Oh. Well, just let me know, I guess. ...Or...don't...either way...” He clears his throat. “Unrelated topic: should I wear anything special tonight? What do you think about cologne? Not that I own any cologne, but I've got access to a lot of chemicals. I could probably whip something up...”

“Don't you have that diagnostic to run?”

“Yes!” Dax practically yelps. “Diagnostic! Top priority! Shoo, Tahira, I have work to do!”

“And so do I,” I reply, grinning. “Later, Dax.”

* * *

In the chief of security's office, Santiago Lupo eyes a row of security monitors as he sips from a white mug of coffee. A diffuse reflection of the florescent lights gleams on the surface of his bald head, changing shape slightly as he moves. One of the screens has been turned to the local news, and as I enter, I catch a snippet of the anchor's brief:

_“--string of brazen daylight robberies that have plagued the Northbridge jewelry district--”_

“‘Morning, Tahira.” Santiago's voice covers the sound of the television as he turns in his chair to smile at me. He nods at the screen. “You hear about all those armed robberies?”

“Yeah, I read a blurb in the news on the train this morning. Who do you think is behind it?”

He grins cheekily. “Straight to the professional opinion, huh?”

“Something like that.”

“The police don't have a clue who's behind the diamond heists, but if you want my opinion, these guys had military training. We're talking explosives, highly coordinated strikes...the whole nine yards. You almost have to admire them.”

“They sound pretty dangerous.”

“Unfortunately, they're hardly the worst this city has to offer,” he sighs. Then he smiles proudly. “But don't worry. I went over the security plans for tonight's gala with Silas Prescott personally. The party will be great, but the security will be better. You'd need an attack helicopter to punch your way through our defensive grid.”

“You don't think that's...overkill?”

“Hell, no!” he replies cheerfully. “No such thing in my book. Mayor Brady, D.A. Katsaros...all the most important people in the city are going to be at Prescott Industries tonight. Nothing is going to happen on my watch!”

* * *

After chatting with Santiago awhile longer, I return to the elevator, taking it up to the second-highest floor. I step off into Grayson Prescott's office. He's at his desk doing paperwork, but he looks up as I enter.

“Everything set for tonight?”

“Everything's taken care of,” I confirm.

“Good news, then. But as I recall, you had one more thing you wanted to discuss?”

“Ah, right. So...I have a friend who wants to come to the Gala tonight. She's one of my best friends, and she's a junior fashion editor at _Motif._ If we could put her on the guest list, she'll definitely write something nice about the gala, and--”

“I suspect my father's announcement tonight will make for plenty of good publicity,” Grayson points out. I feel my resolve falter slightly.

“Well, yes...but...”

Grayson chuckles. “There's no need to sell me on her attending. She's welcome to come.”

I blink, not sure I've heard right. “Wait, really?”

“Really. A friend of yours is a friend of mine. ...You _are_ referring to Poppy Patel, right?”

“That's the one.”

“I remember you two were close at school. She's welcome to come tonight—even though I was devastated to read her article about how joggers were officially off-trend.”

I grin a little. “I'm sure they still work on you.”

For a moment, we're both silent, just looking at each other. Somehow, though, the silence is not awkward. Maybe a little shy, but comfortable even so. Waiting for the next moment, but content in this one. Finally, Grayson speaks.

“I have to meet with my father in a few minutes. I'll see you tonight?”

“I will absolutely be there,” I assure him.

* * *

Naturally, Poppy is thrilled when I tell her the news that she is invited to the gala. And as we get ready together in my apartment early this evening, she tells me so repeatedly.

“I'm so excited!” she squeals for about the fifth time. “The swankiest social event of the entire year, and I actually get to go! All thanks to the boundless generosity of my best friend, whom I would do absolutely anything for!”

“You know, flattery is the only reason I'm not telling you to calm down,” I call from the bathroom as I wrap a final strand of my thick black hair around my curling iron. “But seriously, you should calm down and get dressed.”

“I'm just waiting for you to finish in there. Don't worry. I've been thinking about the gala for weeks. I had my outfit planned days ago.”

I draw the iron away from my head, releasing a loose coil. I admire my handiwork in the mirror for a moment, and nod to my reflection.

“All yours,” I say as I emerge. Poppy scoots into the bathroom, and I move toward my closet to browse my selection of dresses that might be appropriate for the evening. A few minutes later, Poppy emerges in a slinky wine-red halter dress. She holds out her arms, spinning slowly.

“Ta-da! You don't have to tell me I look fabulous, because I already know I do!”

I whistle lowly. “You _do_ look fabulous,” I agree. She grins.

“Now, the big question: what are you going to wear?”

“I'm not sure. I was leaning toward my old prom dress. I'm pretty sure it still fits me.”

“Hmm, you _could..._ or you could dress appropriately for what could potentially be a _huge_ night for you. Not to mention you've been single for too long, my friend. It's high time we change that.”

I roll my eyes. “What if I _like_ being single?”

“If I thought that were the case, I wouldn't mention it. But it's been a year since you and Tom broke up, and you said yourself that you're ready to put yourself back out there.”

“Pretty sure I was drunk when I said that.”

“A drunken tongue speaks a sober heart,” she retorts. “Are you really going to tell me your crush on Grayson has totally faded?”

I would answer that directly, but I'm pretty sure the heat blooming in my cheeks is enough to completely give me away.

“...Do you think Grayson sees me that way?”

“Come on, Tahira. Of course he does! So why not go all out tonight? I brought you something special as thanks for getting me the invite.”

I laugh. “You could have led with that, you know. What have you got there?”

“It's not something you can keep, I'm afraid,” she warns. “I'm hanging onto it for a fashion shoot. But no one will notice if it goes missing for a night or two.”

She scoots back into the bathroom, and opens the garment bag she'd hung on the towel rack. She emerges with an elegant white dress, low-cut with a slit up the side of the skirt, capped sleeves, and a floral lace applique over the bodice.

“Oh, my god! Poppy, it's stunning!”

“Try it on!”

“Are you sure? I mean, what if I spill wine on it or something?”

“We'll stock up on club soda on the way! Stop fussing and put it on!”

I laugh. “Okay, okay!” I snatch Poppy up in a hug. “Thank you for sneaking it out for me. You're the best.”

She hugs me back. “Grayson won't know what hit him!”

* * *

I'm glad I chose to wear the dress Poppy picked out. When we arrive at Prescott Industries, the lobby is awash in a sea of high-profile guests in stylish gowns and tuxedos. Uniformed servers circulate unhurriedly through the room with trays of appetizers and fluted glasses of sparkling champagne. Poppy nudges me, pointing to the champagne trays.

“See? Nothing to worry about. No red wine. And you blend right in.”

“Okay, okay. You win. You are a fashion guru, and I will never again question your fashion advice.”

“Yes, you will. But that's okay. Honestly, I feel like I'm a little underdressed. This place is bougie as hell.”

“Nonsense. You look amazing.” I grab a couple champagne flutes from the waiter and pass one to her. I take a sip, savoring the tart, fruity flavor.

“Hey, guys!” I look up to see Dax working his way through the crowd to reach us. Poppy grins.

“Speaking of getting dressed up...nice to finally see you out of a lab coat, Dax.”

Dax laughs a little nervously, tugging at his dress clothes. “It's weird, right? I feel weird. I think I'm gonna go put it back--”

“Don't!” Poppy yelps. “Seriously, don't. You look good. Almost as good as Miss Fashionista over here.”

Dax glances over at me, taking in my outfit. “Oh, yeah. Wow, Tahira, you look amazing!”

I grin, preening. “I know.”

“And how about me?” Poppy asks pointedly. A mischievous smile flickers across Dax's lips.

“You're okay, I gues—ow!” He laughs as Poppy lightly punches him in the arm. “Okay, okay, sorry! You look great.”

“That's better. Come on, let's get some more drinks. This round's on me.”

“It's an open bar,” I point out. Poppy waves her hand dismissively.

“Details, details...” She scoots toward the bar with me and Dax in tow, just out of earshot.

“Nervous?” I ask.

“Not at all,” Dax replies. “We've rigorously tested the, uh, device since this morning's anomaly, and everything looks--”

“I meant Poppy, genius.”

“Oh! Right!” He clears his throat. “Do you really think she might be interested in me?”

“I'd say you're doing great so far.”

He blows out a shuddery breath, smiling shakily. “Great. Thanks.”

We pick up the pace to catch up with Poppy as we cross the lobby toward the bar. Most of the faces here tonight are unfamiliar, but there are a few I recognize. The District Attorney, Meiko Katsaros, for one, standing near the bar with a young man I assume is her son.

“Kenji, I can't believe this!” I hear her hiss as we take our seats at the bar. “You wait until _now_ to tell me you're dropping out?!”

“Relax, Mom, I've got it all figured out. Can't we just focus on enjoying the party?” Anything the DA might have said in reply is cut off by a waitress approaching them with their drinks. Kenji takes his and raises it in a salute to his mother. “Bottoms up!”

“This conversation isn't over! As soon as I tip the waitress, we'll...” She trails off as she searches through her purse, a confused look on her face. “Strange...I must've left my wallet at home...”

The waitress smiles. “It's quite all right, ma'am. No tip necessary.”

I'm distracted from the drama unfolding in front of me when Poppy taps my arm, pointing in the other direction.

“Tahira, look who it is...”

I follow her gaze to where Grayson stands in a close circle with several men I don't recognize, and one I do, an older man with streaks of gray in his honey-brown hair and beard. It's Grayson's father, Silas Prescott. He smiles disarmingly at the men.

“I'm glad you boys came to _us_ with this opportunity,” Silas is saying. “The Bayside neighborhood has been an unsightly blemish on our fair city for too long. It could use a little redevelopment.”

But Grayson is frowning, his forehead wrinkled with concern. “Dad, I'm not so sure about this deal. Redeveloping Bayside would mean pricing long-term residents out of their homes. Where are those families supposed to go? The rent in this city is already at an all-time high.”

I can already see how this is going to go. Silas' face darkens briefly before he slaps on a bright smile and chuckles indulgently.

“Gentlemen, you'll have to forgive my son. He doesn't quite have the killer instinct necessary to succeed in this business yet.”

“Maybe I just don't think life has to be a zero-sum game!” Grayson snaps back, and I internally cheer a little. Silas is not as thrilled as I am. He grabs his son by the arm. My stomach clenches when I see Grayson wince.

“That's what losers tell themselves. You think I got to where I am by being soft?”

Grayson meets his father's angry gaze, but doesn't address him. “I think I need some air,” he says tightly. “Excuse me, gentlemen.”

He wrenches himself out of his father's grasp and takes up his drink, heading toward the stairs that lead up to the balcony. His father's disapproving stare follows him across the gala. Dax is the first to break the awkward silence that's settled over our group.

“That was...”

“...Hard to watch,” Poppy finishes, nudging me slightly. “I think Grayson may be in need of rescuing, Tahira.”

“Yeah. I think you're right.” I finish my drink and set the empty glass on the bar before weaving my way through the crowd toward the balcony steps. I find Grayson leaning on the railing, gazing out at the starlit city. I feel my breath catch in my throat as I sidle up beside him.

“It's an incredible view,” I murmur. He must have heard me coming, because he doesn't startle.

“You can see all of Northbridge from here. It's actually why Dad chose this sight to build Prescott Tower. He said, 'A good view helps you keep things in perspective.'” He sighs. “I'm starting to think he had a different idea of what that meant.”

“Yeah. I...kind of overheard your conversation just now. ...Are you okay?”

He exhales a little forcefully, giving a determined nod. “Yeah. Yeah, I'm okay. It's just...complicated, I guess.”

I offer a lopsided smile. “I can do complicated,” I quip, nudging his shoulder with mine.

“Well, the long story short is that those men are forming a coalition to redevelop the Bayside neighborhood, and they want Prescott Industries to take the lead. I've seen the plan. It's a really lucrative opportunity. But it'd mean displacing a lot of the neighborhood's residents. Families with kids. Elderly people.”

“I see...” I nod, encouraging him to continue.

“My father wants me to prove myself by taking on a big contract like this one. But I'm not sure this is the kind of man I want to be.”

I sigh thoughtfully. “Well...I won't tell you what to do. I don't know right off what I would do. But I know you'll make the right decision in the end.”

He snorts mirthlessly. “Yeah? What makes you so confident?” he sounds flippant, but I think he genuinely wants the reassurance. I grin.

“You're my boss, so I have to say that,” I quip. “...You're a good person, Grayson.”

His expression softens as he looks sidelong at me. “You really think so?”

“I know so.”

He turns towards me, holding my gaze for the space of a few breaths. His eyes are so beautifully blue. Like the ocean. The way his eyes are lingering on me, I have to wonder if he's thinking things about my eyes. If he's having romantic thoughts about how brown they are. I can feel heat blooming in my cheeks.

“What are you staring at?”

“I'm sorry, was I staring?”

“A little bit.”

“I'm sorry,” he says again. But he's drifting closer to me. And as if drawn by a magnet, I take a step toward him. His hand drifts up to my chin, gently tipping my face toward him. I let my hand come to his shoulder blade, and press lightly, encouraging him to come closer. I let my eyes flutter closed and stretch my face toward his. I feel warmth as he approaches, and the tingling of his lips grazing mine.

“ _AHEM...”_

The pointed throat-clearing makes us leap apart. My gaze whips toward the door, where Silas Prescott is scowling at us. I look back at Grayson, who is blushing furiously, his ocean-blue eyes wide.

“Dad! I...”

“If you and your assistant are done _consulting,_ I'd like to have a word with you.”

Grayson swallows, his expression crashing like a downed plane. “All right. Let's talk.”

I expect Silas to insist on either me leaving or Grayson coming inside, but he surprises me by just ignoring me. “I'm sorry for getting frustrated with you earlier, Grayson. It's just...” He sighs heavily. “Your mother and I wanted so much for you.”

“...I know, Dad.”

“And I trust that you'll live up to our expectations, in your own time and in your own way. So for now, let's put all this unpleasantness behind us. I want my son standing beside me when I make my big announcement.”

Silas puts an arm around his son's shoulder and leads him back towards the party. Grayson dares to glance back at me as I follow, and I offer him an encouraging smile before slipping back into the crowd to find Poppy. Naturally, she's waiting for me, grinning mischievously.

“So, how did it go up there?” she sings. I shake my head, jerking it in the direction of the stage, where Silas is mounting the platform.

“Later. I promise. Silas is getting ready to speak.”

Poppy makes a face, but as the crowd around us is quieting, she doesn't press me. Everyone's attention turns to Silas Prescott.

“Ladies and gentleman,” he begins, his voice clear and strong, “it's such an honor to see you all here tonight. Mayor Brady, District Attorney Katsaros, I hope you're all enjoying my champagne.”

A ripple of laughter passes through the crowd and Silas pauses, smiling indulgently as he waits for it to pass. When it is quiet again, he continues.

“But as many of you have probably guessed, I didn't organize this little shindig just for the pleasure of your esteemed company. In fact, I have something incredible to show you. Something that will change the world as we know it.” With that, he steps over to the large curtain on the far end of the room. “Please forgive my flair for the dramatic. I know the tension must be unbearable, but I assure you a discovery of this magnitude deserves an equally grand reveal.”

I feel the gala buzzing with excitement. In spite of my own complete lack of knowledge on the project, I feel excited myself. And based on the way Poppy is grabbing my hand, she feels it, too. But Silas isn't ready to pull back the curtain yet. Instead, he holds up what appears to be large pink crystal.

“Twenty-five years ago, my...my late wife and I discovered _this_ crystal on an archaeological expedition.”

“Oh, that's _beautiful,_ ” Poppy breathes beside me. I nod dumbly. Even from my vantage point, I can see the way the crystal gleams with a soft magenta light that's almost like a flame dancing inside it. It's kinda hypnotic.

“Analysis revealed that this was no ordinary crystal. Its subatomic particles show a composition that defies quantum mechanics as we know it. So the brilliant scientists at Prescott Industries have spent the last twenty-five years writing new rules.”

I nudge Dax, who has come up to join us. “Is this the secret project you were working on?”

“Just all the parts that required a handsome, young science genius,” he replies, unable to keep a proud smile from creeping across his lips.

“This incredible discovery,” Silas continues, “now powers a device we call the Prism Gate.”

He gestures dramatically, and the curtain behind him rises. Underneath it is a strange-looking device. A solid metal base that must be four square feet supports two pylons nearly twice his height that curve toward each other like the nose of a pair of pliers. Lights line the inside curves of the pylons, which are attached to a control panel. I must admit, the name is apt. 'Gate' is definitely the first thing that comes to mind when I look at it.

“The Prism Gate operates under its own power and provides access to a clean and inexhaustible energy source.” Silas' announcement sends a ripple of excited murmurs through the crowd. He smiles proudly. “You heard that right. Infinite, clean energy. An end to famine, to pollution, to inequality. Now...watch.”

With a slow, dramatic flourish, Silas places the crystal into a slot on the Prism Gate's control panel. Without even flicking a switch, the Prism Gate hums to life, sending vibrations through the floor. A pink, otherworldly glow pours into the lobby, given off by the fuchsia storm of energy flickering between the Gate's pylons. Silas, bathed in light, spreads his arms wide.

“Ladies and gentlemen... _welcome to the future._ ”

The crowd bursts into enthusiastic cheers and applause, and I confess that I'm swept up in the moment. I clap wildly, not even minding that my palms start to sting from the force of it.

It takes me a moment to register the explosion that rips through the air overhead, the spray of glass shards raining down from the shattered skylight, the cheers and applause suddenly turned to screams. I instinctively grab for Poppy, searching for the source of the explosion as Silas shouts for security. I look up at the ruined skylight and see four men in masks rappelling down into the lobby, armed to the teeth, with handguns in holsters and rifles strapped to their backs. They land and pull out their handguns, pointing them at the crowd.

“Everyone on your knees!” One of them roars. “This is a robbery!”

Another gunman, still aiming a gun with his right hand, raises his left in a gesture that's half-placating, half-threatening. From where I am, I can see that above the mask that covers his mouth and nose, his eyes are dancing gleefully.

“If nobody does anything stupid, nobody has to die! So pretty, pretty please...” The corners of his eyes crinkle in what is unmistakably a smile as he grabs the nearest guest, pressing the barrel of his gun to the young woman's temple. “Do something stupid.”


	2. Flight

There were more gunmen than the ones that rappelled in through the roof, it seems. They almost seem to be coming out of the woodwork now, surrounding the crowd of frightened guests, who mostly froze the moment the lead gunman took the woman hostage.

“Ladies and gentlemen, thank you for attending our little charity drive this evening. Very considerate of you to wear your finest jewels tonight. Makes things easier for us.”

“Oh god,” Poppy whimpers, gripping my arm. “I can't believe this is happening... What should we do?”

“What they say,” I murmur back. “Let's not give them a reason to hurt anyone.”

Silas Prescott seems to agree with me. “Remain calm, everyone!” he calls. “We only need to cooperate, and everything will be all right!”

A few of the gunmen start herding the guests into groups while the others focus on disabling Prescott security. Poppy and I are grabbed by the arms and pushed toward one group where Dax has already been shoved into line.

“This group with me!” the gunman barks. “And remember what the boss said: no funny business! We don't wanna kill you, we just wanna rob you.”

We're goaded onto the raised stage beside the Prism Gate. As we're pushed closer, the humming of the Gate fills my head, raising the hairs on the back of my neck. Maybe it's just anxiety playing tricks with my head, but I could swear the energy between the pylons is starting to pulse faster; the soft fuchsia light in the lobby is turning deeper and harsher. Energy crackles in the air like lightning.

“Dax...? Are...are you seeing what I'm seeing?”

“Yeah, I'm seeing it,” he says grimly. “Something's wrong.”

The lead gunman whirls towards us, aiming his gun at Dax. “Something you want to share with the rest of us?” he snarls.

“Well...yes. There's something you need to--”

“Shut up!” the gunman barks. His eyes have fallen on the crystal that powers the Gate. “What have we here?”

“No!” Silas cries. “Don't touch that!”

“I said shut up! That means you too, old man!” He reaches for the crystal, plucking it from the control panel just as Silas lunges desperately at him.

“That's mine!” he roars, tackling the younger man with what is frankly an impressive display of force. It's enough to make the gunman let go of the crystal, which flies out of his grip and arcs through the air—straight toward me. Acting on instinct, I reach out to grab it out of the air before it hits the ground and shatters. It might as well be magnetized to my fingers as easy as it is for me to wrap it in my grip.

A sound like thunder splits the air at the same time a searing light bursts out of the Prism Gate. My vision fills with bright static and a noxious ringing in my ears drowns out the sounds from the world outside my head. My heart slams violently against my sternum like it’s trying to pound its way out of my chest as I feel the floor drop out from beneath my feet. I taste bile at the back of my throat. But just as quickly as the world turned upside-down, it rights itself. I'm back on solid ground. The shadows fall from my eyes and screams assault my ears as I take in the lobby, suddenly filled with fire and smoke. The crystal slips out of my grasp and goes spinning across the floor.

Before I have time to react, a second shockwave rocks the lobby. Cracks appear in the lobby's support pillars, and the crowd start to run for the exits. The gunmen clearly know when to bail, because they take off too. But I don't miss the lead gunman scooping the crystal off the floor before escaping through a hole in the wall. As my brain catches up with the rest of me, I begin searching through the cloud of debris for my friends. I find Dax and Poppy not too far off, struggling to their feet.

“Dax!” I call, my voice a dry, dust-coated croak. “Poppy!”

“Tahira!” Dax shouts back. “We gotta get out of here! This whole place is coming down!”

“I know, I--” Another explosive blast from the Prism Gate cuts me off. I hear a sickening groan from above me. I raise my eyes just in time to see a slab of concrete break loose from the ceiling and come hurtling down toward me and my friends. Poppy screams. Instinct takes over and I raise my hands above me. I feel the slab of stone connect with my palms. My wrists are forced backwards, extending my hands flat above me, but as the muscles in my arms and legs contract to push back against the slab, it stops. It takes a moment to register, but I am holding the slab of concrete above my head. Not without effort. I can feel my muscles working. But only as hard as they would work to hold up a basket of laundry in the same position. Dax and Poppy stare at me with what I imagine is the same expression I'm staring at them with.

“Tahira...” Dax gasps. “What...? How...?”

“I don't know!”

“You look like you're about to--” Poppy's voice suddenly sounds very far away. My vision abruptly fills will static, and silence swells in my ears. Then I don't feel anything at all.

* * *

It doesn't feel like any time at all before a voice starts to break through the dark haze, familiar and comforting.

“Twenty-five years ago you came into my life. I promised then I'd raise you as my own. And I did. I _did._ Through thick and thin, braces and prom...” There's a gentle pressure on my right hand. It squeezes slightly. “I can't lose you like this, baby girl. There are so many things I never told you. Things you need to know. Come back to me, baby. Please come back to me...”

The soft stroking sensation on my forehead gives me the strength to open my eyes. “...Mom...?”

My mother gasps, fresh tears gathering in her dark eyes as she brings my hand to her soft brown cheek and kisses my palm frantically.

“Oh, Tahira! Oh, baby, thank God you're awake! Are you okay? You had me worried sick!”

I can feel the weariness in my own smile, and there appears to be an IV in my hand, but other than that, I feel okay. “I'm not going anywhere, Mom. Promise.”

Mom chokes on a sob as she pulls me into her arms. I nestle into her embrace, threading my fingers through her long box braids like I've done since I was a kid, breathing in the lingering scent of her vanilla-cinnamon body lotion.

“I'm gonna hold you to that promise, sweetheart.”

She reluctantly replaces me on the pillow, and I look around my hospital room. Sunlight is coming through the window. The digital clock on the wall says it's about one in the afternoon. “Did I spend the night here? Can we afford this?”

“Prescott Industries is covering the expense,” Mom assures me. “Grayson's been waiting to see you.”

I sit up sharply. “Grayson's here?”

I don't miss the smirk on my mother's lips as she gently guides me back down to the pillow. “He stayed up all night with us, waiting for you to wake up. ...I think he might like you, Tahira. More than he realizes.” I feel myself blushing, which only makes Mom smile more. “Are you feeling up for visitors? He's just outside.”

“...Any chance you have a hairbrush on you?”

“There's a comb in my purse. And I'll take that as a yes?”

“Yeah, sure. Just give me a minute.”

I accept the comb from my mother and try to bring a little order to my thick, dark hair before I nod that I'm ready. Mom takes the comb back, goes to the door and waves Grayson inside. I can see right away that he probably looks about as disheveled as I do, if not more. His clothes are rumpled, his hair tousled; there are shadows under his eyes, and a layer of peach fuzz on his chin and cheeks.

“How is she...?” he asks anxiously.

“Awake now,” Mom replies, nodding at me. “Thank you for everything, Mr. Prescott. I'll leave you to talk.”

She slips out into the hall and Grayson approaches my bedside, hesitantly taking her seat. There is relief in his eyes as he holds his hand over mine, silently asking permission to take it. I turn my palm towards his and wrap my fingers around his hand. He smiles.

“Hey.”

I smile back. “Hey. ...Did I scare you?”

Color creeps across his pale cheeks. “Yeah,” he admits. “Yeah, you did. Tahira, I...I'm sorry. I should've gone back for you.”

“What do you mean?”

“I wanted to go back in to find you. When the ceiling was coming down and I didn't see you outside...I wanted to go back in...but Dad held me back. I can't help but wonder if I could have gotten to you in time, if you would still be lying here in the hospital...?”

“I think we would _both_ have been lying here. Don't go blaming yourself, okay? Besides, you're really helping my mom and me out with the medical bills. Seriously.”

He sighs. “I know. I just...wish this hadn't happened at all. If it hadn't have been for those robbers and Dad's invention...” He shakes his head, his handsome face twisting with sudden anger. “What was he _thinking_ , turning it on with everyone in there?!”

“Hey. It's okay, Grayson. I'm fine. I'm better than fine. ...And I'm glad you're here.”

Grayson tightens his grip on my hand, locking eyes with me. “...Tahira...there's...something I want to tell you.”

“Yeah? What is it?”

He swallows hard. “I...I think...”

“Tahira!” I yelp slightly at the new voice. Grayson jumps, dropping my hand. Dax pokes his head around the corner into the room. “Oh! Sorry, are we interrupting?”

Poppy's face appears over Dax's shoulder, grinning. “We can wait outside if you two need a moment alone.”

Grayson, his cheeks flushed bright pink, shakes his head. “No, that's...that's okay. You guys have waited long enough. I'll, uh...I'll see you later, Tahira.”

Although I am mildly irritated at the interruption, I can't help but smile. “Yeah. See you, Grayson.”

Grayson scoots out of the room and Dax and Poppy approach my bedside, their expressions serious.

“Tahira, we need to talk.”

“Big time,” Poppy agrees.

“About what?”

Dax scratches his head awkwardly. “How much do you remember about last night?”

I frown, considering the question. To be honest, it's all a little hazy. Feeling suddenly restless, I swing my legs over the side of the bed, gripping the IV stand as I test the strength in my legs. Finding them perfectly capable of bearing my weight, I get up and head over to the window. The early summer sunlight slants through the window and warms my skin pleasantly as my mind tries to make sense of the images flashing through it. Men with guns...beams of purple light spraying out in all directions...

“Well, after the attack, I remember the Prism Gate going nuts...”

“That's it?” Dax says when I don't go on after a moment. “Nothing about, I don't know, _saving our lives?_ ”

Another flash of memory. Something rushing down at us from overhead. Something big.

“The ceiling!” I exclaim. “That big piece of concrete came falling down on us...”

“Yeah, and you held it up for about thirty seconds!” Poppy reminds me. I look sharply at her.

“What?! But that's...”

“Impossible?” Dax supplies. “Yeah, that's what I thought, too. But the fact that none of us are human pancakes right now is telling. I think something happened to you last night, Tahira. Something to do with the Prism Gate.”

“Wait, am I missing something here?” Poppy asks.

“So far, it seems whenever Tahira's around the Prism Gate becomes...unstable. We saw it yesterday morning, and then again at the gala. And when it...well...exploded...” Dax swallows, looking away for a moment. “I saw what happened, Tahira. You were...floating, sort of. And after that...”

“The roof came down,” I finish. “And I...held it up. Somehow. ...What's that mean? What's happening to me?”

Now Dax smiles. “Something incredible.”

He goes for something on the bedside table, a metal tray set with a carton of orange juice and one of two-percent milk, a single-serve plastic cup of cereal with a foil seal, and a muffin wrapped in plastic. He places the food on the table and hands me the empty tray.

“See if you can bend it.”

“Like...with my mind?”

“That's...not what I meant, but I guess it's worth a shot.”

I squint at the tray, trying to will it to fold, but I am clearly not Uri Geller because it doesn't move.

“Okay, maybe try the old-fashioned way,” Poppy suggests.

“Is there an old-fashioned way to bend a metal tray?” I quip, but I don't wait for an answer before I take the two ends in my hands and try to force them together. The tray folds like paper. I fold it in half again, and a third time.

“Holy _crap!_ ” Poppy exclaims. I look from the neatly folded tray to Dax.

“What does this mean?”

“I'm not sure. But it definitely seems like the incident with the Prism Gate had an effect on you. I mean, we know it was reacting to you for some reason...”

“Yeah. Especially when I touched the crystal.”

“And now you have super strength, and you can survive a huge chunk of concrete falling on you--”

“And you can fly,” Poppy adds.

“What?”

“Yeah, don't look now, but your feet are literally not touching the ground right now.”

Of course, I look—and I barely have a moment to register that my feet are a few inches above the tile before the shock sends me crashing back to the floor. Poppy yelps, rushing to hook her arms under mine before I fall flat on my butt.

“Are you okay?! I told you not to look!”

“Yeah, I'm fine.” I glance over at Dax, who has pulled a sciencey-looking device from his pocket. “What's that thing?”

“Portable Geiger counter. Hold still. I just wanna test something real quick.”

“...Why do you just have that thing on you?”

Dax ignores Poppy as he holds the scanner up to me. “Whoo, that's a relief.”

“What's a relief?”

“You're officially not radioactive.”

“That was a possibility?”

He shrugs. “I don't know. Maybe. We're in uncharted territory here. All I know is most of your vitals look normal except...”

“...What?”

“I don't know how this is possible, but I'm detecting subatomic vibrations similar to the frequency of the Prism Gate crystal. It's clear that your contact with the crystal _changed_ you somehow. The question is, how much?” He grins again, a gleam in his eyes. “And to answer that...we're gonna need to do some science.”

Poppy groans. “Typical. Tahira has these incredible powers, and you want to coop her up in a lab.”

“What's wrong with that?”

“It's _boring!_ Let's see some more flying! Please, Tahira?”

“Um, in case you guys have forgotten, I can't really go anywhere while I'm still in a hospital gown with an IV in my hand. Maybe we can worry about getting me discharged first?”

“Ah, okay. Fair point. Stay right there! I'll flag down a doctor!”

Dax scoots out of the room without waiting for me to respond. I sigh. “...Where does he think I'm going to go?”

By the early afternoon, I've been given a clean bill of health and permission to be on my way. I have to promise Mom that I'll call her tomorrow before she agrees to let me go with my friends, but I am eventually left to my own devices—only for Dax and Poppy to pick up the train of thought they had left off earlier.

“So, Tahira, do you want to be Dax's lab rat, or do you want to practice some flying?”

“Honestly, as much as I want to see about flying, I think it might be smart to run just a few tests first.”

“Yes!” Dax crows. “Good choice! Let's lab it up!”

Poppy groans. “Never say that again, okay?”

* * *

We arrive at Prescott Industries, and Dax immediately takes us to the engineering lab. Poppy whistles lowly as she enters, looking around.

“Whoa. I don't think I've ever actually seen where you work, Dax. It's kind of incredible, actually.”

Dax beams at the compliment. “Yup. This is where the magic happens.” His smile slips a little. “Including last night's, uh, minor disaster.”

“Hey, it's not all bad,” I assure him. “I mean, at least I have superpowers.”

“Very true. Okay, let's start by testing your strength. We already saw you bend your hospital tray earlier, but let's see what you can do with this.”

He hands me what looks like a weight-lifting bar without the weight rings. I take an end in each hand and push them toward each other. It does not surprise me that I am able to move the two ends closer together. What does surprise me is how flexible the material is. I had initially expected it to snap, but I am able to fold it into a crude but recognizable heart shape.

“Aww!” Poppy coos. “I think someone has love on the brain. I think any guy or girl would love a thoughtful, homemade gift like that.”

“Really?” Dax eyes the heart-shaped bar in my hands thoughtfully. “Interesting...”

“Focus, Dax.” I set the bar aside. “What's next?”

“Right. My bad. I think next we'll go for something a little more _exciting.”_ He guides us back further into the lab, into what looks like a shooting range filled with free-standing blocks of concrete.

“What is this place? I didn't think Prescott Industries was in the weapons business.”

“We're not. But we do work with lasers and stuff. This is where we test the latest developments.”

“How are lasers not weapons?” Poppy asks incredulously.

“They're for research!” Dax protests. “But that's not the point. Tahira, I thought we'd see how hard you hit now. Ready to blow off some steam?”

“You want Tahira to _hit_ those? But that'd hurt so bad!”

“Somehow, I think Tahira will be okay.”

“Besides, I did dabble in taekwondo and boxing for a while in middle school and high school,” I point out. “I was punching through blocks of wood before I got superpowers. How much different can concrete be now?”

I hop the barrier and approach the first block. I won't try anything fancy, just a straight punch, but I line myself up the way I remember being taught, and visualize punching through to the other side of the block. I take a deep breath, and let my fist fly with a short, “Hyah!” My fist passes right through the block, leaving a hole in the middle that radiates enough cracks that the entire top portion of the block crumbles a moment later. I blink, dumbfounded.

“...Woah.”

“Seconded,” Dax murmurs, his eyes like saucers.

“I'm guessing that didn't hurt after all?” Poppy quips.

“Not really, no. Not any more than punching a piece of thick cardboard.”

“So...” Dax says after a moment, “While we're here...wanna test your resilience? I mean the laser's right here. I can get it charged up.”

“Okay, no!” Poppy yelps. “ _No!_ We are not shooting Tahira with a giant laser. That's where I draw the line!”

“All right, all right!” But as he passes by me, Dax leans in close and whispers, “Don't worry. We'll do it sometime when she's not here.”

Poppy hooks her arm through mine, shooting a glare at Dax before grinning at me. “Now, how about that flying thing?”

* * *

On the roof of my apartment, I stand at the edge and gaze down at the street below me. Dax shifts nervously beside me.

“Uh, guys, I don't know if it's such a good idea for Tahira to fly around. What if someone sees her?”

Poppy waves a hand dismissively. “Relax. Everyone's always looking down at their phones these days anyway. Tahira, you ready?”

“I'm a little nervous, honestly,” I confess. “I mean, all I've done before is hover. And that was an accident.”

“Come on, you can do this. I believe in you!”

“Well...here goes nothing, I guess.”

I take a deep breath, and try to picture myself floating away from the rooftop. Apparently, that's all I need to do, because the ground falls away beneath me, and I am suddenly standing on empty air, looking down at my friends.

“I'm...I'm doing it! I'm flying! Holy crap, I'm _flying!_ ”

Poppy whoops excitedly. “Come on, Tahira! Show us what you've got!”

I will myself higher, and the roof falls further away. I will myself faster and my speed climbs as I do, pushing towards the clouds. I stretch out my hand as I approach. I know clouds are just water vapor, but they look so fluffy I can't resist trying to touch one. As I fly faster and higher, I can't resist letting out a yelp of delight. This is like a dream; flying the way I have wanted to since I was a child. Then, when I brush the underside of a cloud and feel moisture instead of soft cotton, that really only confirms that this is reality. I really am _flying!_ I turn and will myself back down to the roof, landing with a thump.

“All right! High five!” Dax crows. But when I slap my palm against his, he frowns. “Ew, why is your hand all wet?”

I chuckle. “Don't worry about it.”

Poppy squeals, bringing her hands to her mouth. “Oh my god! I just had the best idea! You know how I always post my outfit-of-the-day on _Motif's_ homepage?”

“Yeah?”

Poppy bats her eyes at me. “Wellll...I was thinking it'd be pretty cool if my best friend in the whole world took a photo of me at the top of Northbridge Tower...?”

“Wait, you want Tahira to fly you up there? But...what if she drops you?”

“Promise you won't drop me, Tahira?”

“I'll definitely try.”

“Well, that's good enough for me!”

I scoop Poppy up into a bridal carry, and she giggles, playfully throwing her arms around my neck. I can see the spire of Northbridge Tower from where we are, and I will myself off the roof, soaring toward it.

“Be careful!” Dax calls after me.

I don't say anything, but I do know Poppy grips me a little bit tighter as we rush through the air, but as we approach the tower, she loosens her grip, pointing at it.

“There it is! You can just let me off at the top, thanks.”

I laugh. “What am I, your chauffer?”

“And my photographer! Come on, I need you to take the picture.”

“Okay, let me just set you down and get a good angle.”

I drop Poppy off at the spire, making sure her grip is secure before floating back out with her phone in hand. I angle myself just slightly above her, and she grips the spire with one hand while leaning into the wind with her other arm extended. The winds tug at her skirt and the billows on her blouse, and they toss and play with her silky brown hair, creating a stylishly messy appearance.

“How do I look?”

“Amazing as usual,” I assure her. I float back and show her the phone.

“Thankyouthankyouthankyou, Tahira! This looks amazing! Let's go show Dax. Because...he...will want to see it...”

“I'm guessing he will,” I tease, waggling my eyebrows.

Poppy blushes, but she smiles at me. “Oh, shut up.”

I scoop Poppy up in my arms again and fly back to the rooftop, where Dax is pacing anxiously. When he sees us, relief floods his face and he smiles easily.

“How did the photoshoot go?”

Poppy shows off the picture on her phone. “Check it out. Not bad, huh?”

“Wow...you look incredible! I mean...it's incredible that you're all the way up there. That's...that's what I meant. Yeah.”

Good lord, sometimes I just want to grab these two by the backs of their heads and moosh their mouths together. But I'm guessing I should have done that before getting super strength. It probably wouldn't end well now. I settle for rolling my eyes.

“Okay, I think I've had enough superpowers for one day. I'm ready to go home and relax.”

“Sounds good to me,” Poppy agrees.

“Come on inside, you guys. I'll make us some popcorn.”

* * *

A short while later, we're all squeezed together on the sofa, me in the middle with the popcorn bowl balanced on my knees.

“Let's see what's on Netflix,” Poppy suggests.

“I wanna watch something bad,” Dax declares. “Like, funny bad.”

Poppy rolls her eyes. “What a surprise. I think we should watch something scary. ...No, wait...something funny. Actually...”

“Maybe we could skip the movie tonight?” I suggest. “I'm honestly down to just hang out and...talk...or whatever.”

“Oh, is it heart-to-heart time?”

“What's on your mind?”

“What else?” I quip. “After getting these powers...I mean...aren't I supposed to like, fight crime and help people now? I mean, there's that whole Spider-Man line. And as far as I know, there's no one else who can do the things I can do. This is the first time this has ever happened. I can't go on with my normal life now. ...Can I?”

“Honestly, I think that's up to you,” Poppy replies. “You have to do what feels right to you.”

“Whatever you choose, we'll be right there with you. Just be careful with this, Tahira. Your new powers could make you a target. There are some bad people out there.”

_On the other side of the city..._

_In an abandoned warehouse, a gang of thieves cluster around their leader, who lies in a pool of blood on a rusted metal table, a crooked piece of rebar jammed between his ribs._

_“Somebody get me a goddamn whiskey!” he growls, his face pale and twisted with agony. Sweat runs down his forehead and cheeks in rivers. His gloved fingers tighten around the gleaming pink crystal in his hand._

_“We can still save him,” one of the men murmurs. “We just gotta get that rebar outta him.”_

_“Forget it; he's lost too much blood already. I say we finish the job and take that crystal for ourselves.”_

_He pulls a handgun from the back of his waistband and levels it at the dying man's head. His finger tightens on the trigger, but before he can squeeze enough to get a shot off, a blood-curdling roar of fury from the man on the table makes him freeze. Before he can react, the boss' fist collides with his chest. The force is enough to send him bodily flying across the room. The would-be killer crashes into the wall on the far side of the warehouse and slumps lifelessly to the floor._

_The one who argued to save their boss nevertheless trembles, shrinking away from him. “Oh...oh, god...boss...”_

_The lead gunman looks down at his hand as the skin shifts from flesh to gray, unyielding stone._

_“Wha...” his underling gasps. “What are you?!”_

_“Strange...” The stone gunman's voice is momentarily languid. “It doesn't hurt anymore.”_

_He sits up, slowly but not painfully. His pace is unhurried, like a man getting out of bed on a quiet Sunday morning. He looks down at the rebar in his chest, and grips the twisted metal in one massive hand. With one swift motion, he snaps it off, leaving the rest behind._

_“I feel...power.”_


	3. Back to Formula

Monday morning, and as usual, I am late for the train. I charge up the street at my regular sprint, muttering to myself.

“Come on, come on...please don't leave without me...” I pound up the steps to the platform, just in time to see the doors close and the train slide away, leaving me panting in its wake. I swear under my breath, putting my hands on my knees. “Crap in a hat...”

I start to ask myself how I'm supposed to get to work now, except that before I can finish my mental question, the answer dawns on me. I have a way better way to get to work now.

I hurry down the steps again and duck into an alleyway. When I'm sure no one is watching, I rocket into the sky. The air embraces me, and I let myself swim through it, fast as driving, faster than the train. I'm not sure if it's exhilaration or if it's the thin air that's making me short of breath, but as long as I don't start feeling dizzy, I'm not overly concerned about it. I'd like to see Marjorie get to work this fast.

I feel my phone vibrate in my pocket, and slow down just a little to answer it. Poppy's number flickers across the screen. I thumb the green button and hold the phone to my ear.

“Hey, Poppy!”

_“Tahira? Where are you? What's all that noise?”_

“Well, it's...pretty windy where I am...”

_“Really? It was pretty still when I was heading to work.”_

“Well, it's not still up here.”

Poppy squeaks, lowering her voice. “ _Oh, my god! Are you flying to work?! That's so cool! Oh...but Dax is not gonna be happy when he hears about this.”_

“Which is why you are not going to tell him.”

_“...I dunno, Tahira. He seemed really worried that someone might see you.”_

“Oh, come on. No one's gonna see me up here! It's totally—ahh!” I cut myself off with a yelp as a passing pigeon swoops just a little too close to my head, and in my effort to avoid a collision, I drop my phone. I dive after it, snatching it out of the air just before it reaches terminal velocity.

 _“Tahira?!”_ Poppy's voice is tinny as I return the phone to my ear. _“Hello?!”_

“Sorry! I almost hit a bird, then I dropped my phone...it was a whole thing.”

 _“You scared me half to death!”_ Poppy scolds. _“You have to be more careful!”_

“Sorry, _Mom._ ”

_“Very funny. I'm starting to think flying and talking isn't really your strong suit.”_

“Are you trying to get rid of me?”

 _“Just trying to keep you alive,”_ she replies firmly. _“Say hi to Grayson for me.”_

“Are you sure you wouldn't rather have me say hi to Daaaaaax?”

_“Oh, hush. Why don't you just focus on trying not to kill any birds while you're up there?”_

“I'll do my best. Talk to you later, Poppy.”

I hang up and slip the phone into my pocket as Prescott Industries comes into view below me. I touch down in another alleyway and step out into dazzling sunlight that reflects off the building and makes it gleam. Construction crews move across the surface of the building's facade, replacing shattered glass windows and broken support beams. I cross the courtyard and step through the remains of the building's front doors, right on time.

In the lobby, Grayson and his father oversee another swarm of construction workers as they work to clear the debris left by the attack. Silas turns to smile as he sees me enter.

“Well! If it isn't our miracle survivor!”

“Tahira!” Grayson takes a step toward me. “How are you feeling?”

“I'm good. Great, actually.”

“Grayson tells me you flat-out refused to take any time off work,” Silas remarks. “Is that true?”

I make a sweeping gesture with my arms that vaguely suggests I'm presenting myself, hoping I look nonchalant. There is something about Silas Prescott that is intimidating, even as he makes you believe he wants to be your buddy.

“I'm here, aren't I?”

Silas laughs. “Ha! I suppose I deserve that. I have to say, I'm impressed, Tahira. You remind me of myself when I was your age. Stubborn as a mule and far too eager to prove myself.”

See, that's the kind of thing I'm talking about. Underneath his friendly smile and good-natured ribbing, I always feel like he's watching me. Judging me.

“Well, I...”

“Relax, kiddo. I'm just teasing you. Besides, look where it got me.” He spreads his arms wide, gesturing to the wreckage around him. “Millions of dollars’ worth of damage and a front-page article in the _Northbridge Gazette_ declaring me a threat to public safety!”

I can feel the pressure building around me. Seriously, there's heat creeping up my neck and cheeks, and I can feel sweat starting to bloom on my forehead.

“There's...no such thing as bad publicity, right?”

Silas seems pleased by my answer, snapping his fingers. “Took the words right out of my mouth! See, Grayson? Tahira knows the score.”

Grayson looks at me a little nervously. “Sure...but I still think we have a debt to the community. People could've gotten seriously hurt. Tahira almost did.”

“My son the humanitarian. You know what they say; you can't make an omelet without breaking a few eggs and all that. It's a good thing you've got a tough shell, Tahira.”

“Yeah, I guess so.”

“Besides, now we've got an opportunity to reinvent ourselves.” He turns to shout at the construction crews. “To rebuild, bigger and better than ever!”

The crews reward him with a brief moment of cheers and applause, but I can see Grayson's jaw muscle clench.

“Don't you think we should be focusing on community outreach right now? As long as we're reinventing ourselves, why not do something to give back to the city?”

Silas waves a hand dismissively. “We will, Grayson. We'll move forward with the Bayside redevelopment initiative, as discussed.”

“That's not exactly what I had in mind...”

“We'll talk about it later. Tahira just got out of the hospital. The last thing your assistant needs right now is more stress. Now, if you'll both excuse me, I've got a full day ahead of me. The future isn't going to reinvent itself.”

He waves over his shoulder and strides off towards the elevator, leaving an uncomfortable silence in his wake. Grayson stares at a spot on the floor in front of him, his jaw tightened further.

“...You okay?”

“Not exactly. Dad's been like this ever since the gala.”

“...Like what?”

“Evasive for one thing. He refuses to talk about what happened that night. ...He almost got _shot._ And his life's work nearly destroyed the city! And yet all he can talk about is the future.” He sighs. “I don't know, Tahira. I'm worried about him. And I'm worried about this company.”

“What do you mean?”

“After last Friday, morale isn't exactly at its peak. It's time for us to regroup and support each other.” After a moment of silence, he shakes his head as if he's trying to shake out the gloom and looks at me with a forced smile. “Why don't you check in with the different departments? See if you can get a handle on what everyone needs?”

I smile back, pretending to salute. “You're the boss, boss.”

His smile slips again. “And while you're at it...if you can piece together anything about what actually happened the other night...I don't know about you, but I definitely have some lingering questions.”

“You're not the only one. I'll see what I can turn up.”

“Thank you. Come find me when you're done, okay?” He hesitates a moment, and then leans in a little closer. “Don't let this slip, but I think I found a way to invest in Bayside without displacing its residents. I'm gonna head over there to look at some real estate later, and I'd love to get your thoughts on what I have planned.”

“I look forward to it.”

“Me too.”

He heads over to the elevator. After taking a moment to mentally work out a plan of action, I decide to check in with Santiago first. If I'm going to figure out exactly what happened, the head of security might be a good place to start.

Santiago doesn't even look up from his bank of security monitors as I enter the office. “...You need something Tahira?”

I frown at the gloom in his voice. “Just checking in. You okay? You seem kinda...down.”

Santiago sighs gustily, swiveling in his chair to face me. “You could say that, sure.”

“If it's about what happened at the gala, it wasn't your fault.”

“Really? Then whose fault was it? From where I'm sitting, there's no one to blame but me.”

Okay, I can see that route isn't going to cut it. “So...what? You're just gonna sit in here feeling sorry for yourself?”

He shrugs. “What else is there to do? I tried to quit, but Silas wouldn't accept my resignation.”

“Well, that should tell you all you need to know. He obviously hasn't given up on you. So why are _you_ ready to throw in the towel?”

“Look, Tahira, I appreciate what you're trying to do. Really, I do. But this isn't something you can fix with a pep talk.”

It's my turn to sigh. “Yeah. I'm kinda getting that impression. But I am here if you want to talk about it.”

That does earn me a weak but sincere smile. “Thanks. That is good to know. Truly.”

* * *

In a stark contrast to Santiago in the security office, I am greeted in the engineering department by Dax sporting a broad grin.

“Hey, Tahira. What brings you here?”

“Grayson wants me to check in with the various departments. See how morale is holding up after the whole giant science explosion thing. I would guess that spirits are pretty low around here...except that you seem to be in an okay mood.”

“Honestly, morale around here is fine.” He shrugs. “This is what science looks like. A bunch of costly mistakes, and finally a solution. Silas Prescott knows that as well as anyone. Although admittedly, this mistake turned out a lot more costly than usual.”

“...If _I'm_ honest...I'm feeling pretty guilty about the whole thing,” I admit. “I mean, if you're right at the crystal and I reacted to each other...”

Dax smiles sympathetically. “Things were already looking not-so-great with the whole armed robbery thing. And now you're a superhuman! So, not all bad, right?” His smile turns to a lopsided smirk. “Speaking of which, Poppy tells me you _flew_ to work today?”

I sigh, rolling my eyes. “I knew she'd rat me out. I suppose you're going to tell me to be more discreet?”

“Well, yeah I am! Do you have any idea what would happen if people found out about...well, _you?!_ ”

“They'd agree that flying to work is awesome?” I'm being intentionally obtuse and it probably isn't nice of me, but Dax takes it in stride.

“Not quite. The entirety of human history has been one continuous arms race, Tahira. Ever since the first caveman picked up a club and killed the second caveman. And as of last Friday, you are both the caveman and the club.”

“...I'm not following.”

“Okay, that metaphor may have gotten away from me. But you get my point. There are bad people out there, Tahira. And they want _power_. And like it or not, you _are_ power.”

I sigh. “Okay, so what do you suggest? Should I just forget about these abilities? Never use them? If I hadn't used my strength at the gala that night, you and Poppy might be...” I trail off. I don't want to say it if I don't have to.

“...Getting scraped off the floor of the lobby as we speak,” Dax finishes. “I know. I'm not saying you can't use your powers. I'm just saying that you have to make sure no one finds out who you are.”

“Do you really think that's going to make the difference? Are you really trying to apply comic book logic to this, saying I need a secret identity?”

“There's a reason superheroes in comic books hide their identities. It's not to protect themselves. No matter how strong you are, the people close to you are only human. And you can bet anyone who wants to control you will target them first.”

“Okay, point taken. So what do you suggest?”

“Simple. You wear a mask.”

I raise an eyebrow. “...Seriously?” Before Dax can answer, my phone chirps with a schedule reminder. I sigh. “Look, I better get going. I have a lot of--”

“Wait! There's something I wanted to give you first.” He rushes back to his desk, and returns with two small objects, which he thrusts at me. I hold out my hand and he drops into my palm a small earpiece and what looks like a wristwatch with a metallic band and a glossy digital screen.

“A smartwatch?”

“Oh, it's much more than that,” Dax replies with a smug grin. “You're looking at proprietary Prescott Industries communication tech. If you're going to be making calls from the lower stratosphere, a consumer phone's probably not the way to go.”

“I did nearly drop mine this morning,” I admit.

“Exactly. Plus, you can use the wristband to send and receive video. Pretty sweet, huh?”

Before I can answer, Poppy's image flickers onto the screen, and her voice sounds clearly in my ear: _“Hey, Tahira!”_

I can't hold back a small yelp, but I quickly recover. “Uh...hey! How do you already have one of these?”

_“Dax had it delivered this morning so we could surprise you!”_

“I see. ...Hey, Dax, should you really be handing out Prescott tech?”

Dax shrugs. “Eh, they'll never miss it. Besides, I designed this personally, so I kinda feel like it's _Dax_ tech.”

“Not exactly sure Prescott would agree. But if you're sure, I should get going. I've got a lot left to take care of today.”

 _“Ohh, can you give me a tour of your office?”_ Poppy asks. _“Or Grayson's office? Or the cafeteria? Or--”_

“Dax, how do I turn this off?”

“Here, I'll show you. Sorry, Poppy!”

_“Hey, don't you dare--”_

As Dax squeezes a couple buttons on the side of the watch face, Poppy disappears from the screen. I grin.

“I feel a little guilty, but it's definitely for the best. Anyway, I'll see you later, Dax.”

“Before you go, just...promise me you'll be careful and, uh, stay out of trouble, okay? At least until we can get you a proper disguise or something.”

“Sure, I promise.”

* * *

I return to the lobby and immediately wish I were back in the engineering lab. Marjorie is pacing the floor in an obvious huff, muttering to herself. I groan inwardly, but I try to look friendly as I approach.

“Hey, Marjorie...”

Marjorie frowns at me, raising an eyebrow slightly. “Hello, Tahira. Shouldn't you be in the hospital or something?”

I shrug. “I got better,” I answer simply.

“If you say so. What do you want anyway?”

“Grayson has me making the rounds, checking up on everyone. How's everything going? Do you need any help?”

Marjorie folds her arms, rolling her eyes behind her glasses. “Yeah, I need you to tell Grayson that I've got enough on my plate without having to babysit you.”

Deep breaths, Tahira. Deep breaths.

“Marjorie, like it or not, I'm here to help. So let me help. Now, is there any way I can be useful to you? Any way at all?”

Marjorie's lips twitch, her eyebrows knitting together as she runs her hands distractedly through her hair. “Not unless you can somehow get my engagement ring out from under this rubble.” She points to a pile of shattered concrete at the base of a support column.

“Your...your engagement ring? You're engaged?”

Marjorie glares at my obvious surprise. “Is that really so unbelievable? I'm a take-charge, no-nonsense woman with high standards and a salary to match. Who _wouldn't_ want a piece of this?”

“Uh...”

“Forget it. Don't answer that. In any case, I lost my ring in the kerfuffle last Friday, and the renovation crews haven't made the time to recover it. Apparently, restoring the building's structural integrity is a higher priority.”

“I mean, that does kind of make sense.”

“I didn't ask for your opinion, Tahira!” she snaps in exasperation. “And I don't need your help, either. There's obviously nothing you can do about this.”

“I wouldn't be so sure about that.”

I roll up my sleeves, march over to the pile of rubble and get a good grip on a big piece of concrete. Marjorie snorts.

“If you think you can shift that, you're even dumber than I thought,” she scoffs.

I realize Dax won't be happy if he finds out I'm doing this, but how can I pass up an opportunity to both help Marjorie and show her up at the same time? It's impossible. Besides, I make it look difficult, grunting and straining with feigned effort. When I heave the slab off the top of the pile, I sink to one knee, panting.

“Holy crap!” Marjorie yelps. “I can't believe you just did that!”

“It was...nothing...” I reply, still pretending to catch my breath. I get back to my feet, and wince as if my shoulders are aching from the effort. “Okay, that's a lie. It wasn't easy.”

“Now that, I believe.”

Amidst the scattered pieces of stone, I can already spot a glimmer of gold. “I think I found your ring. I pluck it out and hand it to Marjorie, who gives it a once-over before sliding it onto her finger.

“...Thank you, Tahira. I...appreciate it.”

I graciously don't comment on her rare moment of humility and gratitude. “You're welcome.”

The moment doesn't last long, as Marjorie's scowl slides back into place. “Well? What are you hanging around for? I'm sure we both have plenty of work to do.”

“Right. Totally. I'll get out of your hair.”

Without any regret, I scoot into the elevator and take the ride up to Grayson's office. He smiles when he sees me.

“Are you ready to head out?”

“Ready whenever you are.”

“I'm ready now. You can fill me in on your rounds on the way there.”

* * *

I ride shotgun in Grayson's car as he carefully navigates downtown Northbridge's afternoon traffic.

“Honestly, I'll never understand why you don't just get a chauffeur.”

Grayson passes me a cheeky grin. “There are some things a man has to do for himself, Tahira.” He shrugs as he returns his eyes to the road. “At least, that's what my dad would say. I just like driving.”

The screaming honk of a car horn being mashed by an angry palm nearly makes me jump out of my seat as another driver cuts Grayson off, flipping him off out the open window as he does.

“I can see why,” I grumble, trying to collect my scattered wits.

“So, how did it go today? How is everyone?”

“Well, Dax is pragmatic as ever. Says this is all part of the scientific process. Marjorie's...Marjorie. No surprises there.” I frown. “I am worried about Santiago. He's taking the whole thing pretty hard. Thinks it was his fault.”

Grayson's forehead creases with concern. “That's too bad. Do you think he's gonna be okay?”

“I think so. I think what he really needs is just a little time.”

“I suppose we all do, huh?”

“Definitely not wrong.”

Grayson steers us into a rougher part of the Bayside neighborhood. If the Bayside neighborhood was hard-hit by a recent recession, this was an area already struggling. This is the part of Northbridge best known for broken windows in abandoned stores; stores that went out of business a long time ago, but no one bought or rented the property afterwards, and so now they're basically shelter for the homeless when the actual shelters don't have beds available.

Grayson pulls up to the curb, parking his car. His pristine Lexus probably sticks out like a sore thumb.

“Here we are. Have you ever been to Bayside before?”

“Not since I was a kid.”

“It's one of the oldest neighborhoods in Northbridge. In the early 1900's, this district was home to most of the city's steel workers. Including my great-grandparents.”

I feel my eyebrows lift. “Really?”

“Really. My family wasn't always wealthy, you know.”

“That's kinda hard to imagine,” I admit. We open the car doors, unbuckle our seatbelts, and step out onto the crumbling pavement of street and sidewalk. “So where's the property you wanted to look at?”

He points across the road. “It's that one there.”

I shade my eyes from the sun to look at it properly. It's a decrepit property, but then so are most of the buildings and storefronts in this area. This one looks like it used to be a bar or a cabaret. The battered old sign above the door reads _The Grand._

“What do you think?”

“It...could use some work. But that's all it needs, really. Some repairs and a fresh coat of paint.”

“Glad to hear you say that. Because that's the plan. I know it doesn't look like much now, but this place used to be world-famous.”

“No kidding?”

“No kidding. People came from all over to see the shows at The Grand. It hosted some of the best singers and entertainers of the twentieth century. I'm hoping that by restoring this old place, I can help the neighborhood get back on its feet. _Without_ tearing it down and building a bunch of skyscrapers.”

“So, what do you plan to do with this place? You don't see too many cabarets these days.”

“Unfortunately, that's true. I was thinking of converting the place into a nightclub with an old-fashioned cabaret theme.”

“That sounds awesome! I would totally go to a place like that!”

He grins, his eyes lighting up at my reaction. “Right? It would be like stepping into an old movie or something.”

“You sure you're not just making this place for yourself?” I tease.

“Maybe a little bit, yeah,” he admits.

“When do you expect this place to be up and running?”

“Soon hopefully. We're not building from scratch, just renovating. But I also need to hire someone to manage the place. I think I'll have that part figured out pretty soon, though. I have someone in mind.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah. You'll meet him as soon as he accepts the job offer.”

“You seem pretty confident.”

“Well, I have a good feeling about it.” He pauses a moment, looking awkwardly at the ground. “By the way, if you're not doing anything after this...would you care to join me for dinner? I mean, it's been too long since we really sat down and talked. Especially considering all you've been through.”

I smile. “I would love to. You're right. It's been too long.”

“Wonderful. I was thinking of _La Trattoria._ That work for you?”

I feel my eyes widen in a mild panic. “Uh, that's a little out of my budget...”

He waves a hand dismissively. “Don't worry about it. It's on me.”

* * *

Whether it's on him or not, I do feel a little under-dressed when we step into the elegant Italian restaurant. I step a little closer to Grayson as he signals the host, as if to broadcast to the other patrons that yes, I belong here, and I’m with him. The host promptly leads us back to secluded table and hands us two menus. I sit down across from Grayson and open my menu.

“So, what's good here? Any recommendations?”

“Honestly? Order anything. Everything's amazing. I have never had a dish here that I haven't liked.”

I cast my eye over the menu, finally settling on the seafood marinara. A waiter is by to take our orders within a few minutes, and we're supplied with bread and a glass of red wine each while we wait for our main courses. As the waiter leaves, I can't help but notice Grayson's smile slipping off his face. He takes a piece of bread from the basket and sets it on his plate, but he doesn't do anything with it for a moment.

“So...look, Tahira. Obviously, I enjoy spending time with you, but there's another reason I wanted to take you out to dinner tonight.”

I try to cover my nervousness by taking a long sip of wine. In retrospect, that probably doesn't disguise it very well.

“What's that?”

“I feel...I feel terrible about what happened to you last Friday. I mean, you could've been seriously hurt, or...I don't know. I just wish it hadn't happened. And meeting your mother...somehow that made things even more real, you know?”

“I think I know what you mean. But it wasn't your fault. It was an accident. Well, the Prism Gate explosion was an accident. The whole robbery thing was definitely the fault of the guys who robbed the place. I blame them, mostly.”

“That's fair. But...I still want you to know I'm sorry. As far as I'm concerned, Prescott Industries still hasn't done enough to make it up to you.”

I lean forward to prop my chin up in my hand and give him my cheekiest smile. “Well, that depends on whether this place is as good as you say.”

He finally cracks a smile. “Oh, it is. Don't you worry about that.” He picks up the bread on his plate and scoops a bit of butter from the small dish on the table with his knife. “So. Tell me about your mother. Rochelle's her name, right?”  
“Yeah. She's an engineering professor at Northbridge Community College. Not the best pay as you can probably figure out, but she loves it there. She likes helping young people learn.”

“You're lucky to have someone like her in your life.”

“Don't need to tell me that twice. She adopted me when I was an infant. I never actually knew my birth parents.”

“Do you ever wonder about them?”

“Not anymore. I wondered a little when I was a kid, but I've known I was adopted my whole life. ...Though Mom waited until I was a little older to tell me the whole story.”

“The whole story?”

I look down at my plate. “I was a foundling. A baby abandoned in an alley. It's likely my birth mother was abandoned by my birth father in some way. Maybe she was underage, or abused...or maybe just irresponsible. But awful as it may sound, I don't really care. Rochelle's all I really need. She's the one who was always there for me, and that's what makes her my mom, not whether or not she gave birth to me.”

“I could see how much she cares about you just from that brief meeting at the hospital.”

“She's pretty special to me, too. Can't imagine what I'd do without her. Where I would be now.”

“Speaking from experience...it isn't easy.”

I wince a little. “Right. You lost your mother, didn't you. I'm sorry, Grayson. I feel like I shouldn't have said that now.”

“Nah. Don't apologize. I'm the one who brought it up. I guess it's a bit of a heavy topic, though, huh?”

“Oh, I don't mind talking about it, I just...” I trail off, clearing my throat. “Do _you_ want to talk about it?”

“I guess I do.” He smiles sheepishly. “I don't know if it's the wine or because you're easy to talk to, but...Yeah. I do.”

“Well, what do you want to say?”

“There's...not really much _too_ say now that I think about it. My mom passed away, and...well, things were never really the same afterward.”

“How so?”

“I'm sure you've noticed that my dad and I aren't exactly close. He sort of...withdrew from the world after she died. He became even more obsessed with work than he'd ever been before. He pretty much disappeared from my life. Right when I needed him most. To be honest, I still haven't forgiven him for that. Not really.”

I shake my head, sighing. “He really should have been there for you. I mean, I know he was grieving, too, but he was the parent.”

“Yeah, I just think he wasn't really capable, you know? Sometimes I think her death affected him even more than it did me. But still...it's not hard to wish he'd made more of an effort to open up.”

“Maybe it's not too late. Have you tried talking to him about this?”

He looks a little surprised at the suggestion. “Well...no. I haven't.”

“Maybe you should.”

His mouth wrinkles as his eyebrows knit together. “I...I don't think so.”

“Why not? You can talk to me about it. You don't think you can talk to your own father? You've only known me since college, but you've known him your whole life.”

“Well, yeah, but...”

“But what?”

“We just don't...talk about that sort of thing, you know?”

“Not with that attitude, you don't.”

He smiles wryly. “Guess I can't really argue with that logic.”

“No, you can't.” But I am starting to feel a little uncertain about what I'm saying. “I don't mean to be pushy. It's just...nothing can really change if your dad doesn't even know how you feel.”

“You're right. You're absolutely right. ...It will still be hard, but I can't help but agree I should give it a go.”

Thankfully, conversation starts to drift to more neutral subjects after that. Dinner arrives, and it lives up to the hype. We split a tiramisu for dessert, and that's even better. The sun has gone down by the time we leave the restaurant. The air is cool, and the breeze is gentle as it trails through my hair.

“Well? Was I right or what?”

“You were right,” I admit. “You were definitely right. That meal was incredible.”

“I'm glad you liked it.” He takes a step closer to me, cautiously putting his hand in mine. “Tahira, there's...something else I've been meaning to talk to you about.”

I turn to meet his eyes. He swallows a couple times, making a few noises that almost sound like words.

“...What is it?”

“...I...”

Whatever he was about to say is swallowed up in the deafening roar of an explosion that ripples out from across the street. I hear Grayson scream my name through the ringing in my ears. He pulls me to duck behind a car, shielding us from the shards of glass flying through the air.

“Holy shit! What was that?!”

As the debris settles, I peek out from behind the car and catch sight of a few masked figures stepping through the smoke billowing out of the destroyed storefront. As one of them turns his face in my direction, I feel my gut twist with hot anger. And apparently Grayson sees it, too.

“Is that...?”

“The guy who robbed the gala. Yeah, that's him.”

The man calmly pulls down his mask, chomps down on a cigar, and lights it. “What's the rush?” he calls back to his men. “The cops aren't much of a threat anymore.”

I have to clap a hand over my mouth to keep from yelping as the man's face transforms before my eyes, his skin turning to cold, gray stone.

“What the hell?!” Grayson hisses. “What just happened?!”

I think I know. It seems like I wasn't the only one affected by the Prism Gate. But I can hardly just say that to Grayson.

In spite of their leader's confidence, it doesn't take long for the thieves to emerge from the ruined jewelry store with their bags full and climb into a black van. The van starts up and takes off at breakneck speed. Over the sound of screeching tires comes the distant wail of emergency sirens, followed by the wild flashing of red and blue lights as several squad cars pull up to the wreckage. A young brunette woman in uniform emerges from the car.

“Dammit! We're too late!” She looks around just as Grayson and I cautiously emerge from our shelter behind the car. “You two! Did you happen to see anything of what happened here?”

“Yeah, we saw them!” Grayson confirms. “It was the same guys who robbed the Prescott gala last Friday! Only one of them was _different._ His face--” Grayson hesitates, unsure of how to describe it. “What?” the officer snaps impatiently. “Did he get a makeover or something? Spit it out!”

At this point, I've had enough of this time-wasting nonsense. “Grayson, I really have to run, but I'll be right back, okay?”

“Huh? Where are you going?!”

“Uh...bathroom!” Before he can question me, I dash across the street and duck into a secondhand clothing store, switching on my earpiece. “Testing! Testing! Is this thing on?”

 _“Uh, yes?”_ Dax replies, sounding confused.

_“Everything okay, Tahira?”_

“Dax, remember when I promised I'd stay out of trouble?”

_“Yeeeahhhh...?”_

“Well, I'm gonna have to break that promise.”

The store isn't very busy at this hour, and it's not the kind of store to have security cameras or tags on the clothes. I grab a gray sweatsuit and a strapless burgundy sports bra off the rack and dash into the changing room. I cast off my own clothes, leaving them in a pile on the corner. I tear the bra in half, and a safety pin left behind on the changing room seat, and my own strength proves sufficient to get a couple of uneven eyeholes in about the right places. I tie the mangled bra over my face and point my wrist device at the mirror.

“How do I look?”

 _“Like someone who's making a huge mistake,”_ Dax replies flatly.

 _“But also surprisingly trendy,”_ Poppy remarks.

“I'll take it. Now, I've got some bad guys to catch!”

I slap a couple twenties on the store counter before I take off. Probably more than the clothes are worth, but I don't have time to get my change. In the alley between stores, I let myself fly up to the roof of the building, scanning the streets below for the van. I take off across the rooftops in the direction I saw them heading until I finally catch up to my target.

“Gotcha!” I leap off the rooftop and streak toward the van, catching up to it in a matter of seconds. “Time for a little payback!”

 _“Be careful, Tahira!”_ Dax hisses in my ear.

As I draw level with the van, the goon in the passenger seat rolls down the window and aims a rifle at me.

“Say goodnight, freak!” he snarls.

 _“Oh, god! I can't watch!”_ Poppy yelps.

I spiral upwards as he opens fire, the bullets whizzing past me. My breath comes out in short puffs, my chest tight with adrenaline. That was way too close. I have no idea if I'm bulletproof. I dive down again and rip the gun out of the man's hand just as the van's side door slides open, and I find myself face to face with the stone-faced gunman. He grins at me, which looks incredibly eerie with his inhuman face.

“So. I guess I'm not the only one after all.”

“You could say that again,” I agree.

“Nah, I think I'm done talking.”

Before I can respond, he pulls back and wallops me in the face with a fist the size of a V8 engine. I yelp as I'm spiked right out of the air and hit the pavement speeding by underneath me. The pain itself is enough to startle the breath right out of me, and I lie winded in a crumpled heap in the middle of the street, staring dazedly after the van as is recedes into the distance. I groan, letting my head drop back as I struggle to catch my breath.

“That didn't go...exactly...as...planned,” I admit.


	4. Suit Up

I pick myself painfully up off the asphalt, wincing against the stench of burnt rubber that stings my nose and eyes. I did not expect that guy to throw that kind of a punch. A part of me is glad he got away. But it's a small part.

The roar of a car engine splits the silence. I turn to see a bright blue coupe skid to a stop in front of me. Poppy leans her head out of the window and smiles at me.

“Need a lift?”

Almost sheepishly, I climb into the car and buckle myself into the passenger seat. I hunker down and close my eyes, resting my head on the window. It doesn't seem like very much time has passed before Poppy kills the engine. I open my eyes, sitting up with a frown as I realize we're parked in front of Prescott Industries.

“Why are we at work?”

“Dax has something special to show you. Come on.” Poppy helps me out of the car and half-walks, half-carries me inside and down to the engineering lab. Dax is already there, and helps Poppy get me to a chair.

“How are you feeling? That punch looked like it hurt.”

“Oh, yeah. Big time.” I sigh with relief as they gingerly lower me into an office chair. “Thanks, guys.”

“Of course. Will she be okay, Dax?”

“Oh, totally. There's no permanent damage as far as I can see. You're too resilient for that. In fact, I'd say you're just winded. You'll be feeling better in no time.”

“Easy for you to say,” I mutter.

“What was that guy?” Poppy wonders aloud. “He looked like he was made of rock or something.”

“He definitely didn't look like that when he attacked the gala.”

“No, he didn't. The Prism Gate must have affected him, too.”

“Yeah, it's like the rubble somehow _fused_ with his body. His skin was like stone and there was still shrapnel from the blast in him.”

Dax rubs his chin thoughtfully. “Okay, so I know this is a serious threat that we need to deal with, but we also _have_ to brainstorm a name for this guy.”

Poppy looks skeptical. “Really, Dax?”

“We need to know who we're talking about,” Dax points out. “Any ideas, Tahira?”

“What about Stonewall? Like the Civil War general?”

“Stonewall,” Dax repeats thoughtfully. Then he nods with approval. “I can dig it.”

“Okay, that's done,” Poppy says impatiently. “Can we get back to figuring out how to actually deal with this guy now?”

“Please, Poppy,” Dax scoffs. “He has a name.”

Poppy rolls her eyes. “Ugh, fine. Can we figure out how we're gonna deal with _Stonewall_?”

“Well, he and his gang took off in a black van, headed east toward the bay. If we find that van, we'll know where they're holed up.”

“For a group that size, they'd need somewhere pretty spacious. There are a lot of abandoned warehouses along the waterfront.”

I nod, getting to my feet. “Then, I'll start looking there.”

“Woah, not so fast! You're not going out there without a proper suit. Especially now that we know just what Stonewall's capable of.”

I look down at my sweatsuit. “...What's wrong with what I'm wearing now?”

“Well, for starters, it has absolutely zero defensive capabilities.”

“It's also a little...low-effort, I guess?” Poppy adds. “I mean, if you're gonna go after your first supervillain, you should at least dress the part, right?”

“Exactly. Which is why we're going to make you a new suit. Right here, right now.”

I blink a few times, my mouth agape. “You can do that? Do we have time?”

“This laboratory is equipped with the most cutting-edge technology this side of NASA,” Dax replies proudly. “So, yeah. We can do that.”

“It's time for a superpowered makeover!” Poppy squeals.

I sigh. There's no way I'm going to get out of this. “Okay, but...you never answered my question about time...”

* * *

It actually takes a surprisingly small amount of time to cobble together an armored suit and a mask from the high-tech materials Dax apparently has lying around the lab. Within an hour, I'm standing in front of a mirror, admiring the sleek black costume hugging my body like a second skin.

“Sleek, stealthy, totally badass,” Dax says approvingly. “I like it.”

“Me too,” Poppy agrees. “Very femme fatale.”

“By the way, Tahira, I fit a few gadgets into that mask. Built-in audio, a camera, and an augmented reality heads-up display. So you won't need to wear that wristband and earpiece anymore. See?”

Before my masked eyes, a holographic Dax flashes up, overlaid seamlessly with the lab around me.

“Woah! That's amazing! You seriously did all this just in the last hour?”

“Well, no. I have been tinkering with a few things since this morning. But to be honest, it isn't that difficult. All the tech was right here, it was just a matter of fitting it all in.”

“And now you can never get away from us!” Poppy declares gleefully.

“I mean, I could take my mask off,” I point out.

“No, don't!” Dax scolds me. “Secret identity, remember?”

“I know, I know. Now, if you'll excuse me, I've got a bad guy to catch!”

* * *

Newly decked out in black, I take to the skies again and speed toward the coastline. As I reach the bay, I descend toward a row of derelict warehouses, just where Dax said they would be. I'm getting warmer. If I can just locate their getaway vehicle. I squint, scanning the overgrown lots along the bay for a black van. Where are you hiding, black van? Then, half-concealed under an awning that extends from a particularly decrepit warehouse, the van reveals itself. Bingo.

I descend and carefully circle the building for a way in. I find a high window, its pane shattered so thoroughly that the only evidence of its existence is the dusty shards littering the ground beneath it. I slip through and sail up to conceal myself in the rafters. Below me, three of Stonewall's henchmen are stuffing bags with the stolen jewelry and watches.

 _“That's gotta be them,”_ Poppy whispers, her voice coming through my mask.

“Good haul we've got here,” one of the thieves declares gleefully.

“Was it worth the risk, though?” another wonders nervously. “Every cop in the city has gotta be looking for us.”

The third one pulls off his ski mask, revealing a handsome young man with dark, shaggy hair that brushes his leather-clad shoulders. “That just means we're doing something right.”

“Shut the hell up, new guy. This isn't a game. It's business.” New Guy scowls, but his associate just scoffs dismissively. “Go load up the van. Boss says it's time for us to move on. Nothing left in Northbridge for us now. And don't even think of filching anything, got it? If just one single rock goes missing, we'll know.”

New Guy grits his teeth, his hands curling into fists. But just when I think he might deck his associate, he turns and stalks off toward the van, leaving me with just two goons to deal with.

 _“Okay, Tahira,”_ Dax whispers, _“I count one machine gun and one crowbar, but you've gotta get the drop on both of them. You can try to fight them both at once, or you can stick to the shadows and take them out one by one.”_

Stealth seems to me to be the best option here. I find a small piece of rock on the dust-covered rafter at my feet and toss it behind some shelves in the far corner of the warehouse. The noise attracts the attention of the remaining thieves.

“What was that?”

“Go check it out. I'll watch the loot. Let me know if you see anything.”

The first man walks toward the source of the noise, and I follow silently along the rafters overhead.

“Who's there?” he calls. “Show yourself!” I drop down behind him, concealed by shadows. He turns sharply at the sound of my landing, but a well-placed punch takes him out before he can react.

 _“Oh, nice!”_ Poppy whispers. _“Just one guy left!”_

I crouch behind the shelves and wait for the remaining thief to get suspicious. It doesn't take long.

“Well? You see anything?” He pauses, and when his companion doesn't answer, he stills. “...Hello?”

My muscles tense as I will him to come closer, listening to the sound of his footfalls to determine his distance. Just a little closer...closer...

At just the right moment, I shoot out from my hiding place, dropping the guy with a flying knee to the head. I land in a crouch, watching him cautiously until I'm sure he's out.

“All right,” I whisper into my mask. “These two are both out cold. I'll leave these two for the cops to sort out. In the meantime, any idea where the big boss might be hiding?”

_“Uh...Tahira...about that. I don't think he's hiding!”_

Before I can react, a massive shadow falls over me as Stonewall steps out from a back room, his broad, rocky shoulders filling the doorframe. Oh, crap...

Stonewall leers at me, his eyes gleaming an unnatural garnet hue. “Back for more, huh? I figured you'd still be picking your teeth up off the asphalt. I see you've got yourself a fancy new suit. Maybe they'll even bury you in it!”

I open my mouth to respond, but Stonewall is faster. He closes the distance between us and unleashes a barrage of punches. I reflexively duck and weave, but he's missing me by bare millimeters.

 _“This dude is fast for a hunk of rock!”_ Poppy exclaims.

_“Did you just call him a hunk?”_

“Not important!” I growl. “Keep it down! I'm trying to focus here!” But I'm already distracted, and I don't even see what I trip over before I've slammed into the floor.

“Whoever you're talking to,” Stonewall snarls, “time to tell them bye-bye! 'Cause you're already dead!”

He clasps both his hands over his head and brings them down like a hammer on an anvil. I react on pure instinct as I bring up my arm to shield myself. I can't hold back a grunt of pain as the full weight of Stonewall's attack slams into my forearm, but my newfound super strength keeps the bone intact. I leap to my feet and stagger back in time to avoid his next swing. Seeing my opening, I take a swing, and my fist connects solidly with his jaw. The force of it sends him reeling, and for a moment, he's stunned. Then he smiles.

“Not bad, kid. This is shaping up to be a hell of a good time.”

“Plenty more where that came from!” I retort. “Come and get it!”

That was the wrong choice of words. Stonewall drops his shoulder and charges straight at me, lifting me off my feet and smashing me through a stack of crates. While I'm still dazed, he lands on top of me, pummeling my torso with rapid-fire punches. Again, my strength protects me from sustaining serious damage, but any non-super would be dead from what my body's going through, and it's enough to leave me winded. But Dax's desperate voice coming through my mask breaks through the haze.

_“Get up, Tahira!”_

I grit my teeth, take aim, and jam my fingertips into Stonewall's eyes. He yelps, recoiling and grasping at his eyes.

“Seriously?! Dick move!”

My only response to that is a furious cry as I launch myself at him, my fists flying, and landing blow after blow on his face until the stone starts to fracture. Stonewall glowers at me, a visible crack running down his cheek like a scar. He drops low to charge at me again, but I'm ready this time. I grab him by his stupid leather vest and slam him into a support column. I focus my attacks on his face, on the crack on his cheek. Shards of rock splinter off as I punch him again and again.

“This is for ruining my gala! And this is for nearly _killing_ my friends!” The stone mask shatters with the force of my last punch. Stonewall leers at me, his face human once more.

“Go on then. Finish it!”

I push him against the column, my forearm against his throat as I lean in close. “This,” I hiss, “is for my _city._ ”

My fist connects hard with his head, and he goes down like a sack of wet cement. I release him, trembling, my breath coming in short, hard puffs.

 _“Yeah, I don't think he's getting up from that soon,”_ Dax observes.

 _“You did it, Tahira!”_ Poppy cheers.

“Yeah...I did. ...So what do I do now?”

_“Do you see any sign of the Prism Crystal? Maybe we can bring Stonewall back to the lab for questioning...”_

“Wait, shh!” I hiss. The distant wail of sirens has caught my ears. They're getting closer. “Uh-oh...I think the cops have figured out where the thieves are hiding, too.”

_“Okay, forget questioning. Just get yourself out of there, Tahira! We'll meet up at your place!”_

“On it!”

* * *

I manage to evade police detection and keep above the clouds until I'm back in my own neighborhood. Finally, I reach my building and touch down on the balcony. The light is on in my apartment, which either means someone's broken in, or Poppy's used her emergency key to let herself in. And it had damn well better be the latter.

Luckily, as soon as I step inside, Poppy pulls me into a tight hug as Dax pops the cork on a bottle of champagne.

“You did it!” Poppy squeals. “You did it, you did it, you did it! I'm so proud of you!”

“Thanks, Poppy. But...do you mind letting go? My ribs are kinda sore from Stonewall beating the crap out of them.”

“Oh, right! Sorry.” She lets me go, and Dax passes me a glass of champagne, grinning hugely.

“Congratulations, Tahira. You are officially a superhero. How's it feel?”

I give the question a moment's consideration. “Exhausting. But...also kind of exhilarating. There's so much adrenaline going through me right now, but if I lay down, I'm pretty sure I'll pass out immediately.”

“No,” Poppy says firmly. “Absolutely not. We can't have that. We need to celebrate your first big win!”

“Isn't that what we're doing right now?” Dax asks, frowning. “I mean, I bought champagne and everything.”

“Yeah, but why stop there? Let's go out and party!”

“That's going to depend on what exactly you have in mind,” I say firmly.

“Oh, you know. Bonding, sharing secrets, doing shots.”

I think it over for a moment. The thought of lying down on my memory foam mattress and snuggling down between my sheets is inviting. But the truth is I may need some time to calm down before I can actually fall asleep.

“Let's do it. But fair warning, you may have to carry me home.”

Poppy grins. “Well, that's the idea, girlfriend.”

“I meant if I fall asleep.”

“Oh. Well, try not to do that.”

* * *

About a ten-minute walk from my apartment is our favorite neighborhood bar. There's hardly anyone here at this late hour. The bartender greets us as we enter, gesturing to an open booth. It's not long before I'm lounging with my back against the wall, my feet propped up on the naugahyde seat, sipping on a strawberry daiquiri.

Poppy waits until the bartender slips into the back to lean over the table with a conspiratorial grin on her face.

“So, Tahira, what's next for Northbridge's favorite superhero?”

“Oh, I don't know. Flying around, fighting crime, saving the day. The usual stuff, really. But we've talked enough about me. How are you two doing? I mean this is pretty new to all of us, right?”

“You got that right,” Dax agrees. “I've had to throw out everything I thought about physics, human biology, and the laws of the universe... But that's science, you know? That's kind of the point.”

“If you can still talk about science, I think you need another drink.”

I snort. “Poppy, in my experience, that only leads to more science talk. In fact, the first time Dax and I got drinks after work I learned way more about the feasibility of faster-than-light travel than I ever wanted to know.”

“Sounds interesting. I almost wish I'd been there.”

“I can tell you more about it if you want,” Dax offers. “There've actually been some really fascinating reports by NASA recently on warp field detection. They're saying we could potentially see faster-than-light travel to other solar systems within our lifetime!”

Poppy gasps. “No way! So we could like...meet aliens and stuff?”

“Potentially! If they're out there, of course. What do you think, Tahira?”

“About aliens?” I shrug. “Sure, why not? It's a big universe. Seems more unlikely that we're the only planet with life out there than the alternative.”

“My thoughts exactly. And that's just taking our _dimension_ into account.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, it's highly likely that this isn't the only reality. So, if there are multiple dimensions each containing an infinite universe...who knows what's out there?”

“I've only had one drink and my head is spinning,” Poppy quips. “Wait, why have I only had one drink? Let's do shots!”

“I'm down!” Dax declares enthusiastically.

“Tahira, wanna come to the bar with me to order some?”

“I thought you'd never ask,” I reply with a smile, and join her at the bar, leaving Dax waiting in the booth. Poppy leans in close to me.

“So...about Dax...”

Ahh, I knew this was coming. I grin. “Yes? What about Dax?”

She rolls her eyes. “Ugh, quit looking so smug. I don't know, I just...I think he's pretty cute? And like...it's really cool that he's so passionate about something. You know?”

“Well, yeah. I know what you mean. Maybe you should ask him out or something.”

Her eyes widen like a deer in headlights. “Me? No way! I've never asked anyone out, Tahira! You know that! I'll just, you know, make sure to give him a lot of hints. He'd figure it out pretty fast, right?”

I feel my forehead creasing. “I don't know, Poppy. Being smart in science doesn't necessarily mean he'll figure out...'hints'. I mean, I guess he'd probably figure it out eventually, but maybe I should just tell--”

“No! You can't tell him I said anything, okay? Promise!”

“Look, I won't tell him anything without your permission. But I really don't think--”

“I'll handle this my way, Tahira, okay?” She turns toward the bar. “Let's get these shots ordered.”

I sigh, knowing I'm beaten. “All right. Tequila okay for you?”

Back at the table, a tray of shot glasses filled to the brim with amber-colored liquid, I try to ignore the growing sense of dread at what is definitely a very bad idea on Poppy's part. When she raises her glass, I smile and raise mine.

“Cheers!” I throw back the shot and grimace as it burns its way down my throat.

“Ahh, that woke me up!” Poppy declares, putting down her empty glass. Dax empties his glass and immediately throws back another.

“Okay! I am officially three drinks deep, and I have to say...I am feeling _good._ ”

Poppy snorts. “Tahira, you didn't mention that Dax was such a lightweight.”

“Yeah, I guess you've only seen him at one or two drinks. But Three Drinks Dax can be pretty fun. If you like string theory.”

“Okay, okay,” Dax laughs. “I get it. I've been talking way too much tonight. Let's talk about something else.”

“Like what? Our careers?”

Poppy groans. “Nooooo, I don't wanna talk about work!”

“Oh, come on. Why are you upset? You have like, the coolest job out of all of us!”

“Well, I suppose that's true.”

“Which reminds me. What happened with that promotion?”

“They haven't decided yet. But I think I have a pretty good chance, all thanks to--”

A yelp from Dax cuts Poppy off. I look up and see him gesturing frantically at the television over the bar.

“Uh, is everything okay?”

Dax calls back to the bartender, “Hey, Joe! Can you turn that up?”

Joe obliges, grabbing the remote control and increasing the volume as the nightly news anchor introduces the next segment.

_“Our top story tonight...are there superheroes in Northbridge?”_

Poppy squeaks, grabbing my hand. “Oh my god! Tahira, that's totally about you!”

“Seriously? You think so?”

“It's gotta be!” Dax agrees.

But then the news cuts to a red-headed female reporter, holding a microphone up to a young man with skin of gleaming bronze.

_“Thanks, Steve. I'm here with...what did you say your name was again, handsome?”_

The bronze man flashes a winning smile at the camera. _“'Sup, Northbridge! I'm Talos, the Man of Bronze, but I also answer to 'my hero.' Your choice. You can sleep tight from now on, cause I'm officially on the job. No matter where, no matter when, I'll keep you safe. That's a promise.”_ He steps closer to the camera and waves a finger right at the lens. _“And all of you criminals listening at home, you'd better shape up, or we're gonna have a problem. Got it? Good.”_

 _“Well,”_ the reporter says, looking kinda like she might swoon, _“I can certainly say that I'll be feeling safer from now on! Back to you, Steve!”_

The news moves on to the next segment, but I don't hear it, sitting in stunned silence with Poppy and Dax.

“Man of _Bronze?!”_ Dax finally hisses. “Who the hell was that?!”

I shrug. “Clearly there were more people affected by the Prism Gate than we thought. But, the more heroes the better, right?”

“Ohh, maybe you could get a whole super squad!” Poppy suggests.

“Here's hoping,” I agree. “Though we'll have to come up with a better name for it.”

“If the Prism Gate had a wider impact than we first knew, there are probably more out there,” Dax points out. “Who knows how many...”

“Yeah.” I feel a frown tug down the corners of my mouth. “Trouble is, not all of them want to be heroes.”

_Elsewhere..._

_In a cell deep inside Northbridge prison, Stonewall lies on his back on the cot, stewing as he rubs at the bruises left by the dark-haired strongwoman._

_“Guess you were right about me after all, Ma,” he mutters to himself. “You always said I'd end up in the slammer.”_

_A shadow falls across the floor. Stonewall sighs as it catches his attention, raising his head to look more out of reflex than actual interest. Until he sees who is there. He sits up sharply, eyeing his visitor with the wary eye of a feral dog cornered in an alley._

_“You. What are you doing here?”_

_Silas Prescott smiles placidly. “I might ask you the same question. Seems to me these flimsy bars couldn't possibly hold someone with your...abilities.”_

_Stonewall's lip curls in a sneer. “This is only temporary. Come morning, I'll be long gone from here.”_

_“Hmm. So that's your plan, is it? Running away? What are you so afraid of?”_

_“That's none of your business. What do you want from me, anyway?”_

_“I don't want anything from you,” Silas replies. “In fact, I want to give you something.”_

_“Oh, yeah? And what's that?”_

_Silas leans in close to the bars, his lips spreading in a conspiratorial smile. “Purpose.”_


	5. Heat Wave

_On the streets of Northbridge..._

_Caleb doesn't know who told the cops where to find the gang. But it doesn't really matter. The boss and at least two others are in prison, and now Caleb is driving the getaway van, weaving wildly through the downtown streets trying to shake the cops. If he can shake the cops, he'll be away with the majority of the loot from the evening's job at the jewelry store. He doesn't give a crap about the others. They can rot for all he cares. Caleb's the New Guy, and the others lord that fact over him every chance they get. You don't get it, New Guy. Load the van, New Guy. He's sick of it. This life isn't about money or diamonds. Hell, it isn't even about the violence. It's all about chaos. About bringing this corrupt goddamn system to its knees._

_And damned if Caleb doesn't know just how to do that. All he needs is a little more power. The Prism Crystal is heavy in the pocket of his leather jacket. He pulls it out, and admires in the rearview mirror the way its otherworldly fuchsia light illuminates his wicked grin._

_“Glad I grabbed you when I did,” he purrs to the crystal. “You're worth more than all these other rocks combined.”_

_He tightens his fist around the crystal. It seems to respond to the pressure of his fingers, its glow becoming brighter and brighter by the second._

_“Yes...that's it! Give me your power!”_

_Flames burst to life around Caleb's hand, but he doesn't burn. To his delight, the flames are leaping from the top of his head too, reflected in the windshield, and his eyes are burning bright orange. He can't stop himself from laughing. It's time for this city to burn. And as he catches sight of red and blue lights pulsing wildly in his rearview mirror, he decides just where to start._

_* * *_

The next day finds me and Dax spending our lunch hour at a local coffee shop with a few coworkers.

“Man, I needed this,” Santiago sighs, sipping an espresso. “I feel like I haven't had a good night's sleep since the gala. I've been working so much overtime, it's like I've got a second job.”

“You're telling me,” I murmur, smiling into my mocha latte.

“What could you possibly mean by that, Tahira?” Marjorie scoffs. “From where I'm standing, you've been less productive than ever!”

I shrug. I'm not in the mood to argue with Marjorie today, and I guess from her perspective, she might have a point. “I guess I just feel busier somehow. Also, if you're going to insult me, all day, don't be surprised if I don't invite you to get coffee with us again.”

“'Invite me'? I'm here because it's free macchiato day! You all just happened to show up.”

Dax groans. “Could we maybe try to have just one civil conversation before our break's up? Please?”

Marjorie snorts. “Fine. Let's have a civil conversation.” She looks at me. “You go first.”

“Uh...” I search around for a topic, my eyes falling on the engagement ring that I rescued from the debris for her. “How's the engagement going?”

“Wonderful,” she sighs in a manner that suggests otherwise. “If 'wonderful' means juggling wedding planning and cleaning up after the gala incident.”

“Ahh, right. Well...you're excited to be married, right? I mean, that's a big step.”

“Who's the lucky guy?” Santiago asks.

“Lucky _girl,”_ Marjorie clarifies. “Well, woman.”

“Oh! Sorry. I shouldn't have assumed.”

“It's fine. Anyway, yes. I am excited. She took far too long to propose, but better late than never, right?”

“Right. Better late than never.” I don't ask why Marjorie didn't try to propose. Dealing with Poppy's plan to drop 'hints' is exhausting enough for me at the moment. But Dax is smiling with approval.

“There, you see? That wasn't so hard, was it?”

“I suppose not,” Marjorie admits grudgingly.

My attention is diverted when the word 'superhumans' reaches my ear from the coffee shop's television set. I look up and see the news is playing, running another segment on the new crop of superhumans in the city.

_“This just in...are superhumans a threat to our city's safety? District Attorney Meiko Katsaros says 'absolutely'. We join our reporter in the field live from City Hall. Katherine, what's all this hullabaloo about?”_

The same red-headed reporter who interviewed Talos is standing outside City Hall. _“Well, Steve, I'm outside City Hall where District Attorney Meiko Katsaros has condemned the actions of vigilantes like Talos, the Man of Bronze. And I believe that's her leaving now. Come on, Roger, move that camera, damn it!”_

The reporter hurries to catch up with Meiko Katsaros just as she's getting into a car. _“Ms. Katsaros, got anything to say to the viewers at home?”_

Meiko turns her elegant face toward the cameras and sets her jaw. _“Yes, as a matter of fact, I do. I know the recent crime sprees have made some of you feel like your police officers aren't doing enough to protect you. And I'll admit that we could be doing better. Much better. Which is why I am instituting a new campaign aimed at preventing and disrupting criminal activities throughout our city. As for these masked vigilantes menacing our streets, I'd advise them to leave this to the professionals.”_

_“Even though they may be the only ones with the power necessary to stop some of these reported supervillains?”_

_“Look, I don't care if you're made of bronze, steel, or everyday flesh and blood. No civilian is authorized to take the law into their own hands. In fact, anyone who disregards this fundamental law of our society will be rightly considered a criminal, too.”_

_“So you really think your officers can handle these superhumans? What about the cops who were attacked just last night by the so-called Man on Fire--”_

_“This interview is over!”_ Meiko snaps, getting into her car and slamming the door. The segment cuts away and I'm left with a knot in the pit of my stomach.

“That was...a lot to take in,” Dax murmurs.

“'Man on Fire'?” I echo. “Just how many supervillains are in this city?”

“Who knows?” Marjorie sighs. “But with maniacs like that running around, I'm glad there's someone like Talos to protect us.”

“No way!” Santiago protests. “He's a vigilante. DA Katsaros is right. He's just as much a threat to this city as these so-called supervillains.”

“I think doing things Meiko Katsaros' way is going to end badly. This city needs heroes now more than ever. Who else but a superhero can stand up to a supervillain?”

“That's the kind of thinking that'll make this city more vulnerable than ever. When our cops and civilians start thinking of themselves and fundamentally inferior to the supers, we'll know we've truly lost. Thankfully, it looks like that won't be happening anytime soon. With Ms. Katsaros's new initiative, Northbridge will finally be a safe place to live. Mark my words.”

“Hmmph,” Marjorie snorts. “I'll admit Meiko Katsaros is certainly an impressive figurehead for the NPD. I just hope her officers are up to the task at hand. Speaking of which, it's high time we all got back to our own tasks. There's still plenty to do.”

We finish our drinks and head back toward Prescott Industries, Dax and me trailing behind Marjorie and Santiago.

“Had you heard about this Man on Fire guy?”

“Admittedly, no, but we shouldn't really be surprised, should we? After Stonewall and Talos, it seems pretty clear that there'll be a lot more superhumans cropping up in Northbridge.”

“If only there was some way we could learn more about what exactly happened when the Prism Gate exploded. We might learn why this is happening.”

“For that, we'd need to get our hands on the Prism Crystal. But it's either with the cops or...somewhere else.”

“I know which I'd prefer.”

“Yeah, me too. Anyway, want to come by the lab? Maybe we can finally power up that laser now that Poppy's not here.”

“Uh, no thanks. As tempting as that sounds, I told Grayson I'd go back to Bayside with him. And I owe it to him not to bail like I did at dinner before.”

“Oh, did he buy that busted-up cabaret you were telling me about?”

“He did indeed. And it sounds like he's found a manager for it, too.”

* * *

Grayson drives me out to Bayside, pulls up to the curb outside The Grand, and kills the engine. The two of us step out onto the sidewalk, and Grayson takes some keys from his pocket.

“Ready to see the inside?”

“Let's do it.”

“Well, here goes nothing.” Grayson turns the key in the lock and pulls the double doors wide, releasing a cloud of dust. He coughs, sniffling. “Ack...guess no one's cleaned the place in a while.”

“I'd say cleaning's the least of your concerns,” I remark as I step inside the empty, cracked ruins of the old club. “This place is gonna need a lot of work to get it back to its former glory.”

“It's former glory?” A new voice makes me startle. I whip around to see a young Asian man in a red jacket leaning against the cabaret's doorframe. “Why stop there? This place could be so much more than that. Assuming you hire me to manage it, of course.”

Grayson grins at the newcomer. “Tahira, meet Kenji Katsaros. Kenji, this is my executive assistant, Tahira Rogers.”

Kenji nods at me. “Hey.”

I frown. His surname immediately rings a bell. I don't need any help remembering where I heard it. But his face...

“You look familiar. Were you...at the Prescott gala?”

“I was actually. My mom needed a plus one, and being the dutiful son that I am, I obliged. The free drinks didn't hurt, either.”

“Kenji's mother is Meiko Katsaros, the District Attorney. After we met at the gala, I realized he was the perfect fit for this venture.”

Kenji slowly walks around the old cabaret, his brows knitted in concentration. “So, this is The Grand, huh? I thought it'd be...I don't know...grander.”

“The place just needs a little TLC to get it back on its feet. After that, it's up to you to build up its reputation. Think you're up for the job?”

Kenji smirks and cocks an eyebrow at Grayson. “Oh, I'm up to it. Believe me. Just give me some time, and this'll be the most hotly anticipated nightclub opening in Northbridge history. We just need to discuss my rate.”

“For that, I leave you in Tahira's capable hands. If you'll just give us a moment?” Kenji nods, and Grayson pulls me aside, speaking lowly. “I'd like you to take point on this negotiation, Tahira. You just need to discuss Kenji's rate as club manager. I'm committed to hiring him, but if you can convince him to take a lower salary, I'd be grateful.”

“Don't worry, I got this,” I assure him. “I'm pretty sure you didn't hire me _just_ because we're old school friends.”

“Not remotely. I know you got this. I'll see you later, okay? I need to get back to the office.”

Grayson heads out, and Kenji turns to me with a grin. “Well...shall we?”

“Sure. Let's talk business. I'll be honest. We like you, but we do have other candidates in mind. And to be frank, a lot of them have more experience. You're...comparatively younger.”

Kenji smirks, folding his arms. “So it's like that, is it? All right, I'll play ball. Being comparatively younger just means I know your demographic better. But if you want some old dude managing your club, be my guest. Now why exactly should I want to work at The Grand?”

I can't help nodding in admiration. The man knows how to negotiate, and he knows his own worth. I can't help but respect that.

“How about the fact that you can make this club what you want it to be? Right now, The Grand is a blank canvas waiting for its artist. Its success or failure will be yours. And yours alone.”

“Okay, so you know how to appeal to my vanity. You've certainly given me a lot to think about.”

“Well, don't think too long. We do still have those old dudes on the line.”

He laughs. “All right, all right. I'm in. I'll let you and Grayson work out my rate between the two of you. I know he'll be fair.”

“Smart choice. I'll get the paperwork drawn up first thing tomorrow.”

“Now that we're coworkers, let's talk business.”

I raise an eyebrow. “That isn't what we were doing already?”

He waves a hand dismissively. “I know Grayson plans to renovate this place, and it certainly could use some work, but the way I see it, we're sitting on a pretty sweet event space already.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean if you want to go to the hottest parties in Northbridge, you don't go to the clubs. You go to abandoned buildings, warehouses, condemned parking structures...the real nightlife is totally underground, totally exclusive. But I'm sure a girl like you doesn't need me to tell you that, right?”

“I'm really more of a popcorn-and-pedicure kinda girl myself. It sounds like the exclusive nightlife is pretty risky.”

“Hmm. Well, I guess that explains why we never met. I'd remember a girl like you. Still, what would you say if I invited a bunch of the city's hottest influencers here for a secret party here tonight? Just imagine. We can build this club's rep before it even opens. Not a bad idea, right?”

“I think we should run it by Grayson first.”

“Grayson's hiring me for a reason,” Kenji replies confidently. “Trust me; he'll be fine with this.”

“Then why don't we just ask him?”

He shrugs. “You heard the man earlier. He's busy. Look, if anything goes wrong, I'll take full responsibility, okay?”

“Let's still try to make sure nothing goes wrong.”

“Of course. I'll set up the event and send out invites. Feel free to let your friends know. If they're anything like you, I'm sure they'll fit right in.”

I can't help laughing. “Mr. Katsaros, I think you're trying to flirt with me.”

He grins. “Maybe I am. Is it working?”

“Depends on what your end goal actually is. Either way, I can assure you I will be there tonight, and I will tell my friends.”

* * *

Close to eleven that evening, I arrive at The Grand with Dax and Poppy. The strong, pulsing bass from inside the club spills out onto a sidewalk already packed with people waiting to get in.

“Holy crap!” Poppy groans. “How many people did Kenji invite? We'll be waiting out here forever!”

“Is this even legal,” Dax whispers nervously. “There's no way he got a liquor license already.”

At that moment, Kenji seems to materialize out of nowhere on the sidewalk beside us, a dazzling smile on his face. “Hey, man, there's nothing to worry about. I pulled some strings and got a special permit for tonight. Drinks are on me.”

“You mean these people are all drinking for free?”

“Once they get inside, sure. But if they're not on the guest list, they have to pay to get in.”

“Uh, is it cash only?” Dax wonders.

Kenji snorts. “You don't seriously think I'd charge Tahira's friends for entry, do you? You guys are VIPs!”

“Hell, yeah!” Dax exclaims, grinning. “I don't think I've ever been a VIP before!”

“Me either,” Poppy agrees. “I'm starting to like this guy, Tahira.”

“Yeah, he's not bad, I guess,” I allow, smirking.

Kenji chuckles, shrugging. “Eh, I'll take it. Come on in, let's get you three some drinks.”

Inside, The Grand is packed with fashionably dressed clubgoers, while a heavily tattooed DJ blasts music from the stage.

“I have to say, Kenji, I'm impressed,” I admit. “This is a great crowd.”

“Why thank you, Tahira. It's nice to get a little appreciation now and then. Why don't you three head over to the bar? My buddy will get you set up while I get back to my rounds. A club manager's work is never done.”

“I'm also glad to see you're taking this so seriously.”

He shrugs. “Well, I figured I'd better if I want to impress you.” He winks at me, then disappears into the crowd. Poppy, Dax, and I walk over to the bar. A handsome young man with glasses and neatly combed golden-brown hair stands behind the bar. He smiles at me as I approach the bar.

“You're Kenji's friend, right? Tahira?”

“Technically, I'm his boss.”

“Duly noted. What are you drinking, boss?”

“Lemon drop, if you please.”

“Great choice. Now, I just have one more question for you, Tahira.”

“Yeah, what's that?”

The bartender's eyes slide to Poppy. “Who's your friend?” He flashes a charming smile, and even in the dark, I can see the blush creeping into Poppy's cheeks.

“M-me? I'm Poppy.”

“Poppy. I like that. I'm Skylar.”

Uh-oh. Just past Poppy, I can see Dax scowling. I turn back to the bar, clearing my throat. “Hey, Skylar, how about that lemon drop, huh?”

“Right. On it. My bad.” He looks back at Poppy and Dax. “You two want anything?”

“I'll have a dark and stormy, please,” Poppy says sweetly.

“Whiskey,” Dax snaps when Skylar looks in his direction. “Neat.”

Skylar turns away to prepare our drinks, and then pushes them across the counter toward us. I can't help but notice that Poppy's comes with a napkin with a phone number scribbled on the edge. Skylar winks at her.

“Give me a call some time?”

“Oh, uh...sure, okay.” Poppy turns away, blushing furiously. The three of us move slowly away from the bar to make our way through the crowd with our drinks in hand.

“Is it just me, or was that guy kind of a jerk,” Dax grumbles. “And what the hell kind of a name is Skylar anyway?”

“I think it's a perfectly fine name,” Poppy retorts. “And yeah, he was a little forward, but sometimes that's refreshing.”

Dax turns to stare at Poppy. “What's that supposed to--” He cuts himself off with a grunt as he collides with a young woman in a leather jacket. The woman yelps in surprise, losing her grip on her drink.

“Sorry! I...” Dax trails off as the falling drink slows to a near-standstill. The young woman snatches the glass from the air without spilling a drop. She raises the glass to her lips and takes a sip, smiling enigmatically.

“No harm done,” she purrs.

Before I can respond, the dark-haired girl fades into the crowd like she's made of mist, leaving us stunned and silent.

“Okay, what the hell just happened?!” Poppy demands.

“Either we all just suffered the same mass hallucination, or we've got another superhuman on our hands.”

“Tahira, you should follow her! Find out more about her before she gets away!”

I nod. “Hold my drink. I'll be back as soon as I can.” I pass my glass to Poppy and weave through the crowd in the direction that I think the girl went in, squinting through the darkness for any sign of her. Finally, I catch a glimpse of her heading for the exit and elbow my way through the crowd in a desperate attempt to keep up.

I step out into the warm summer night air and find her leaning against the wall, an unlit cigarette dangling from her lips. She turns toward me as I approach, smiling coquettishly.

“Hey, beautiful. Got a light?”

“I...what? No. No, I don't.”

The girl chuckles, tucking the cigarette into the pocket of her jacket. “Too bad. What's your name?”

“Tahira. But that's not why I--”

“Why are you following me, Tahira?”

“I'm not!” I protest, inwardly cringing at that bald-faced lie. She steps closer, her eyes locked with mine, until we're mere inches apart.

“You sure about that?”

“Okay, I did follow you. I saw what you did back there. With the drink.”

The corners of her mouth turn down in a sexy pout, and she gazes at me through half-lidded eyes framed by thick, dark lashes. “Is that the _only_ reason you followed me?”

Her flirtatiousness is unmistakable, even though I'm unsure of her intentions. But maybe I can flirt back. “Maybe not...”

She smirks at me. “I didn't think so.” She places a hand on my shoulder, raising her heels slightly to whisper in my ear, her breath hot on my skin. “Well, Tahira, as cute as you are, I'm not exactly in the habit of hooking up with random strangers.”

“Neither am I. I just wanted to know more about you.”

“Then I think it's only fair you tell me a little about yourself.”

“Me? I'm no one special,” I lie. The mystery girl smirks.

“You know what I think, Tahira? I think there's more to you than meets the eye. And I think you ask too many questions. Enough to make my life _very_ difficult.”

“What do you mean?”

She trails her fingers over my collarbone. “You seem like the goody two-shoes type. And I don't exactly play by the rules. In fact, I think this might be a good time for me to say goodbye.”

Before I can react, she casts one hand toward me, and the air around me starts to shimmer and distort. Instinctively, I reach for her, but it's like I'm moving through molasses. Moving in slow motion. The mystery girl steps back, smirking as she observes my struggles.

“Don't worry, Tahira. I have a feeling we'll see each other again soon enough. Bye for now.”

I'm left watching helplessly as she strolls off down the street, my own limbs too sluggish to carry me faster than a snail's pace. Perfect. I'm stuck in slow-motion, and I know nothing more about this new superhuman than I did before.

The effect doesn't wear off until she's already long gone. I return to Dax and Poppy empty-handed.

“So, what'd you find out?” Dax immediately asks.

“Yeah, who was that girl?” Poppy echoes, passing my drink back to me.

“Well, she's definitely got powers. We talked for a bit, and then she trapped me in some kind of slow-motion field while she escaped.”

“What did you talk about? You didn't tell her that you had powers, did you?”

“I didn't, but she definitely suspected something.”

“Well, I'm sure we haven't seen the last of her. Let's just hope there aren't any more superhumans running around the city.”

A tap on my shoulder makes me start. I whip around to find Kenji standing behind me. “Jesus! Don't sneak up on people like that!”

He chuckles. “Sorry. Didn't take you for the twitchy type.”

“Done making your rounds?”

“Pretty much. I was hoping to spend a little time getting to know you better. ...Unless you prefer to keep a little distance between yourself and your subordinates?”

“No, no, I prefer not to be the aloof boss. Besides, you haven't officially started working yet.”

I gesture toward an empty booth in a quiet corner of the club, and we weave through the crowd to take our seats across from each other. In all the chaos, I realize that I haven't even tasted my drink yet. I close my lips around the sugared rim of my martini glass and take a deep swallow of vodka and tart lemonade. It got pretty warm while I was stuck in slow-motion, but after the way this night has gone so far, I can't help but find it refreshing. I savor the swallow before placing the glass on the well-scuffed table in front of me.

“So, what do you want to know about me?”

Kenji sits back with a smile. “Can I say everything?”

“We'd be here awhile,” I reply, smirking.

“That's all right with me.”

I roll my eyes, trying to bite back a smile. “You think you're pretty smooth, don't you?”

“Are you saying I'm not?”

“No. But there's such a thing as being _too_ smooth. Here's a challenge: tell me something _real_ about yourself.”

“Like what?”

“Like...what you do when you're home by yourself. You know, when you're not hosting underground parties and chatting up everyone at the club. Tell me what you're like when there's no one around to impress.”

I admit I'm a little bit pleased when I see surprise register on his face. “Wow. I don't think anyone's asked me a question like that before,” he admits.

“Yeah, I figured not.”

“Huh...what do I do when I'm alone at home...” He shrugs sheepishly. “Honestly, I'm not that interesting. I watch a lot of music videos on YouTube. I play video games. I work out. And, uh, I like to cook.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. My mom taught me when I was little. You should come over sometime. I make pretty killer yakisoba.”

“I'll keep that in mind.”

Kenji laughs almost shyly and hides his face in his hands. “Ugh! I'm usually not this open with people! And I haven't even had that much to drink! You and your damn questions!”

“I'm sorry.”

“No you're not,” he counters with a knowing smile.

“I'm definitely not,” I confirm.

“Don't worry. I like talking to you.”

“You're not bad to talk to, either.”

“Hey, I was wondering if...uh...do you want to go out sometime? Sometime soon?”

“Like a date?”

“Yeah. Like a date.”

I open my mouth to answer, but a flurry of movement at the edge of my vision distracts me. I look up to see a crowd of party guests pushing toward the door. Kenji follows my gaze, his eyes widening in surprise.

“What's going on out there?”

“I don't know. But I think we should find out.”

We edge out of the booth and push our way through the throng to find the cause of the commotion. I manage to elbow my way through the door and onto the sidewalk outside, where I stop in my tracks.

“Oh, my god...”

Across the street, the DMV is in flames, burning bright yellow and orange that makes my eyes hurt after the dim light inside the club. Smoke billows toward the night sky in thick, black clouds. Beside me, Kenji is staring open-mouthed. I feel a hand close around my upper arm, tugging me insistently. I turn to see Dax, who gestures with his head, prompting me to follow him out of Kenji's earshot, where Poppy is waiting for us.

“Tahira, Poppy and I think this might be the work of the Man on Fire from the news report earlier!”

“And if it is,” Poppy adds, “he could still be around.”

“Tell me you have your suit.”

“Of course. But I'll need to make up something to tell Kenji--”

“Wait, where _is_ Kenji?”

“Who cares?!” Dax hisses. “Tahira, we gotta stop this guy before he does any more damage!”

I duck into an alleyway to pull off the clothes that I put on over my suit and leave them in a pile behind a dumpster. I pull my mask out of my jacket pocket and secure it on my eyes. In disguise, I take off from my hiding place and land across the street, landing as close as I dare to the massive flames. Now, to find whoever started this fire. It doesn't take me very long. A moment after I land, a man strides out of the flames across the street, his entire body ablaze. He turns toward me, smiling.

“Looking for me, hero?”

I open my mouth to reply, but I'm cut off when something hard and shiny pushes past me. All of the sudden the Man of Bronze himself is standing in front of me, posing with his hands on his hips.

“Your days of terrorizing this city are over, hothead!” he declares. “I'm putting you out! For good!”


	6. Trial by Fire

The Man of Fire scowls at Talos. “And who the hell are you?”

“Don't you watch the news? They call me Talos, Man of Bronze!”

“Talos, huh? Did you come up with that yourself?”

Talos twitches slightly. “I...so what if I did?”

“Oh, nothing,” the Man of Fire drawls sarcastically. “It's a great name. Really, I'm not just saying that. Now tell me, what exactly is the melting point of bronze again?”

Now Talos goes stiff, bronze muscles tensing under bronze skin. His bronze jaw clenches, but he doesn't respond to the Man of Fire's taunting. The Man of Fire grins.

“No idea? Then I guess I'll just make it really, really HOT!” He thrusts out his hand and unleashes a roiling blast of fire that tears down the sidewalk toward Talos, but the Man of Bronze holds his ground as the flames engulf him.

 _“Holy crap!”_ Dax whispers into my mask. _“This guy isn't messing around!”_

“Where are you two?” I hiss. “Please tell me you're somewhere safe.”

 _“We're in a cab headed to the laboratory,”_ Poppy assures me. _“Worry about yourself!”_

“There's nothing to worry about. I beat Stonewall; I can beat this guy, too.”

_“Don't get overconfident, Tahira. You're more fireproof than the average person, but it's still going to hurt. A lot. Your suit will protect you, but not forever. Just be careful out there, okay?”_

“Don't get burned. Got it.”

I dash past Talos and take a literal flying leap over the flames streaming from the criminal's outstretched hands.

“Let's see how you do against a _real_ hero!”

I aim a fist at his face, only to have him pivot away at the last second and knock me out of the air with a blast of flame that sends me tumbling to the pavement. Crap, Dax wasn't kidding. My suit holds against the heat, but that doesn't stop me from feeling it. I can't keep myself from groaning at the sting.

“Friend of yours, Talos?”

“Not exactly,” Talos mutters, glaring at me.

The Man of Fire turns back to me, a wicked grin twisting his features. “Let me guess, you have some stupid, made-up name, too?”

I smirk slightly, picking myself off the asphalt. “Still a work in progress, actually.”

“Well, I've never been one to hide behind nicknames or false identities.” The flames recede to reveal a familiar face framed by long, stringy brown hair. The New Guy who was sent to load the van the night I fought Stonewall. “You can call me Caleb.”

I narrow my eyes. “I know you. You were at the warehouse. You were loading the bags into the van. You took the diamonds, the jewelry, and--”

“The crystal,” Caleb finishes for me. “After I saw what it could do, I knew I had to have its power for myself.”

 _“Tahira!”_ Dax hisses. _“You have to beat him! You need to get that crystal back!”_

“I fully intend to,” I murmur. I square my shoulders. “Caleb, I'm taking you down no matter what!”

“Not if I do it first!” Talos shouts. Caleb laughs.

“Well, then let's turn up the heat!”

The flames spring up over his skin again like red in front of a pair of bulls. Talos and I charge at the same time, nearly tripping over each other in our rush to get to him first. The fight that rages in the light of the burning DMV is not going the way I'd like it to. Caleb effortlessly dodges our attacks, keeping us at bay with his flames.

“I thought this would be a challenge!”

“Stay out of this, rookie!” Talos growls. “You're only getting in the way!”

“You are you calling 'rookie'?! How many supervillains have you taken down?!”

 _“Oh, my god, will you two stop bickering and work together?!”_ Dax groans.

“I'm not the one bickering!” I protest. I throw a furious punch at Caleb's head, but Talos lunges forward at the same time, and my fist connects with his metal head with a loud clang.

“Watch it!” Talos barks.

“You watch it!”

Caleb clicks his tongue. “Now, this is just sad. You call yourselves heroes?”

A writhing rope of pure flame lashes towards us, striking both of us in one vicious swing and knocking us to the pavement. He whips the rope over his head and jerks it sharply downward toward us. Instinctively, I dodge sideways, and slam into Talos.

“Hey!”

We scramble to get back on our feet as Caleb reels the whip for another attack. “Sorry, heroes, but if you can't take the heat--”

A powerful jet of water slams into Caleb, cutting him off and extinguishing his fire. I turn to see fire trucks at either end of the street, their hoses turned on Caleb.

“That's it, boys!” a familiar-looking brunette police officer shouts. “Let's show these punks what real heroes are made of!”

Caleb howls angrily, struggling to get to his feet against the stream. “You'll pay for this! You'll all pay for this!” But apparently he decides that discretion is the better part of valor in this situation and flees towards an unmistakable black van, scrambling into the driver's seat. Within thirty seconds, he's hit the gas and sped away with a screech of tires on asphalt.

The fire crews set about extinguishing the DMV as Talos swaggers over to the police officer and extends a gleaming bronze hand.

“Thanks for the backup, officer. The name's Talos...maybe you've heard of me.” The officer snaps a handcuff over Talos' wrist, eliciting a squeak of surprise.

“Yeah, I've heard of your all right. You're under arrest for battery, assault, trespassing, and--”

“What?!”

“This city doesn't need vigilantes. It needs good, honest cops.” The officer turns her angry glare onto me. “That goes for you in the black as well!”

The officer leaves Talos with her colleague, pulling another pair of handcuffs from her belt. She approaches, but that's not where my attention is focused. Behind her, I can see the fire has spread from the DMV to the apartments above it.

 _“Tahira, get out of there!”_ Dax hisses.

_“But what about Talos? Shouldn't she try to help him?”_

_“He can take care of himself! Besides, he's kind of a jerk.”_

I turn my gaze back to the officer. “No. I won't let you punish this man for doing what's right. We're the only ones with the power to stop these people, it's only right that we--”

“You didn't stop this one,” the officer interrupts. “We did.”

“You can't just arrest us for trying to protect people!”

The officer steps closer with a steely determination in her eyes. “Try me.”

I clench my fists, ready to fight, but a scream from above us distracts us both. A little girl leans out of the window of a burning apartment, smoke and fire billowing around her.

“Help me!” she screams. “Please get me out! I'm scared!”

I can't hold back a cry as the window collapses, sending a spray of sparks into the air as the flames devour it. The girl's cries come louder from inside the apartment. “Please, hurry!”

 _“The fire crews aren't going to get there fast enough!”_ Dax cries. _“Tahira, this is all you!”_

“Don't worry. I'm on my way.” I turn to glare at the officer. “And you are _not_ stopping me.”

The officer quickly weighs her options and realizes the same thing Dax did. “All right. But after this, I'm booking you. Both of you.”

“You know I can't agree to that.”

Before she can reply, I take off, to the smoldering wreckage of the window. I fan away the smoke, peering into the room beyond.

“Where are you?!” I call. “Sweetheart, can you hear me?”

“I'm over here!” I move in the direction of the child's whimper, the heat blistering my face as smoke fills my lungs. I drop onto my belly, remembering my fire safety lessons from first grade.

“Stay low under the smoke! Keep talking, sweetie. It will help me find you. What's your name?”

“...Jenny...I'm over here! Please help me!”

“That's good, Jenny. Good girl. Just keep talking to me.”

I find the girl cowering under her bed. I stretch out a hand to her, but she recoils. “Wh-why are you wearing that scary mask?” Her eyes widen suddenly, shifting over my shoulder, and I realize that Talos has materialized beside me.

“Hey, don't worry, kid.” Right before my eyes, his face shifts, the bronze fading away to reveal a face I recognize. Kenji, flesh and blood and topless, smiles at Jenny. “See? Nothing to be scared of!”

“What the—Kenji?!”

Kenji startles, turning to face me. With our faces inches apart, I realize that he can recognize me, too. “...Tahira?!”

“Please, whoever you are, just help me!” Jenny wails.

“Right, right. We can talk later. We've got a job to do now.”

Kenji nods, summoning up his bronze armor again. “Get back to the window. I'll get her to you, and you fly her down.”

“Good call.”

I retreat to the window. Jenny crawls out from under the bed into Kenji's metal arms. Shielding her against the flames, he dashes across the floor and passes her to me. The child wraps her arms around my neck, burying her face in my shoulder as I leap out the window and float gently to the ground, a safe distance from the flames. I place her gently on the sidewalk and find myself squeezed even tighter as she embraces me.

“Thank you! I'm sorry I said your mask was scary!”

“That's okay.” I pull back to grin at her. “Hopefully the bad guys agree with you.”

The brunette police officer storms over to us as I straighten, red-faced and shaking a finger at Talos.

“What the hell was that?! You realize that breaking a police officer's handcuffs falls under the definition of 'resisting arrest', don't you?!”

“Not my fault they're so flimsy,” Talos retorts. “Besides, I had places to be, people to save. You know the drill.”

“You people make me--” But the officer is pushed aside by a swarm of reporters waving microphones in our faces.

“Well, if it isn't Northbridge's favorite superhero! Tell us, how did you manage to save that poor little girl, Talos?”

Talos flashes a winning smile for the camera. “Just another Friday night for me, really. Saving the day is kind of my thing, you know?”

I'm not overly concerned with the glory here, but I can't help clearing my throat and shooting Talos a glare. The reporter turns her smile on me.

“Well, well, well! Looks like you've got yourself a beautiful sidekick, Talos!”

 _“Sidekick?”_ Poppy echoes. _“Ouch!”_

Talos winks as the cameraman turns the lens on me. “Right. My sidekick. Why don't you introduce yourself?”

“First of all, don't pay any attention to the glory hound over here. I'm not his sidekick, he's _my_ sidekick.”

The reporter blinks, startled. “Oh! Talos, is this true?”

“What?! No! Of course not! Trust me; the Man of Bronze is nobody's sidekick!”

“Now, now,” I purr, patting him on the shoulder. “You're a bit newer to the game than I am, and there's no shame in that. There's no need to overcompensate for the cameras.”

“I...see...” The reporter tries to digest this information. “Well, do you have a name, mystery woman?”

_“Uh-oh, better think of something fast, Tahira.”_

_“But not too fast,”_ Poppy cautions. _“Make it good!”_

The name comes to me in a flash of inspiration. I smile confidently for the camera, squaring my shoulders. “You can call me Dragonness.”

 _“Nailed it!”_ Poppy declares approvingly.

“We will certainly remember that, Dragonness,” the reporter promises. “Any friend of Talos is a friend of all of Northbridge. Considering recent events, I'd say we need our heroes now more than--”

A screech of tires interrupts her as a black SUV pulls to a stop in the middle of the street. Meiko Katsaros steps out with a face like thunder, flanked by police officers in full riot gear.

“That's enough!” the DA roars. “Officer Dawes, get these paparazzi out of my crime scene!”

The brunette officer muscles her way back through the crowd of reporters. “On it!”

Meiko turns to me and Talos. “As for you two, you're not going anywhere! We can do this the easy way, or the hard way. Your choice.”

“Hey, Talos,” I murmur. “How much do you trust me?”

“Enough, but then I'm a pretty trusting guy. Why?”

“Hold on tight.”

I grab Talos around the waist and take off, shooting into the night sky. He shrieks beneath me, a howl of pure delight as the air rushes past us. I dare to look down and see Officer Dawes aiming her weapon at us. But just before they dwindle into specks, Meiko puts a hand on the officer's arm, shaking her head.

“That was too close,” Talos says, raising his voice against the rush of wind.

“You can thank me later!” I call back. “For now, let's just find someplace that is not here.”

* * *

A few miles south, in a quieter district of Northbridge, I touch down on a rooftop and breathe a sigh of relief.

“We should be safe here for now,” I say softly, setting Talos down. “Assuming your _mom_ doesn't have choppers searching for us.”

My emphasis does not go unnoticed. Talos scowls slightly. “It's not my fault she's so anti-super.”

“Of course it is! You could just tell her that _you're_ a super! Then we wouldn't have every cop in the city arresting us on sight!”

One bronze eyebrow arches, and I am struck at the expressiveness that metal face is capable of. “Have you told _your_ mom?”

“I...no,” I admit. “I haven't. But...my mom isn't the DA!”

“Look, even if my mom knew I was a super, I can't promise that would make her any more open to vigilantism. Loving me as I am doesn't mean she'll be supportive of all the choices I make.” He sighs, walking to the edge of the rooftop and gazing out over the city. “Look...we shouldn't argue like this. This is exactly what nearly lost us the battle with Caleb. We're on the same side here. We should be working together.”

“'Almost',” I scoff. “I'd say we lost that battle pretty soundly, wouldn't you? In any case, you're right. Truce?”

I extend a hand. Talos turns back to me with a smile and grips my forearm. “Truce. ...I couldn't have gotten out of there without your help, and I know you didn't have to stay. So...thank you.”

“You're welcome.”

Talos takes a seat on the low wall surrounding the edge of the rooftop and looks back at me with a sly smile on his lips.

“You know, as long as we're going to be operating in the same city, we could probably use a little teambuilding exercise.”

“What'd you have in mind?”

“...How about that date? Since we're both _super_ , something tells me this shouldn't be your typical date.”

“And what did you have in mind?”

“Well, I certainly wouldn't mind doing more _flying,_ for starters.”

I can't hold back the smile that nearly splits my face. “...It really doesn't get old, does it,” I say dreamily.

“Guess I haven't done it enough to find out.”

I grin, and turn my back to him, holding my arms out to the side. “Hook your arms under mine. Backpack style.”

“You sure? I don't want to hurt your back.”

“Since the Prism Gate incident, I've been bending steel bars without much effort. I doubt you'll do any long-term damage. Just hold on tight.”

He does as I say and I take off again, feeling his grip tighten as we clear the rooftop and rush into the arms of the sky. The lights of the skyscrapers dwindle underneath us, sparkling like stars in the darkened city below. On my back, Talos lets out a crow of delight.

“This is amazing!”

“Where should we go?” I call back.

“Somewhere quiet!” he answers. “After the night we've had, I'd love to just get away from it all.”

“You got it!”

I change directions and spiral toward Northbridge Park. At this time of night, it's pretty much empty, but I still make sure to touch down somewhere off the main paths. Talos stumbles slightly as he gets off my back and I put out hand to steady him.

“You okay there?”

“That takes some getting used to,” he admits.

“So...this is embarrassing to admit, but I have...very little on underneath this suit. I mean, I'm not naked, but...I'm basically in workout clothes. That leave very little to the imagination.”

Talos smirks. “Is that a way of preparing me, or are you saying that you would rather stay supered up? Because I am so not opposed to anything you may or may not be wearing under your supersuit.”

I roll my eyes. “I'm gonna slip behind that tree. No peeking.”

The bronze slips away from Talos' skin, revealing a topless Kenji, grinning slyly. “You sure about that?”

“ _No. Peeking.”_

“As you wish.”

I step behind a tree and peel off my suit. The summer night air is warm and humid, and my skin glistens with moisture. There are damp patches on my shorts and my tank top. Not exactly the most flattering look for a date, but considering what we've just been through, I doubt Kenji will mind. I remove my mask last, tucking it into the sleeve of my suit as I fold it carefully. Finally, I reemerge into the light of a streetlamp. Kenji steps closer, his eyes fixed on mine.

“What a relief. You could've been anyone under that mask.”

“Very funny.”

Before I quite realize it, we're mere inches apart, and Kenji is placing a gentle hand on my cheek. His touch makes me shiver, but after a moment, I retreat just enough to give him the hint. His hand falls back to his side.

“So, I know we said we'd do...superhero stuff on this date, but it's nice to do something simple sometimes.”

“Can we call this simple? We're two of the only superhumans in existence, and so far the only other two want to kill us. Not to mention that my mother and the entire Northbridge police department want us behind bars.”

I lower myself onto the soft grass and pat the ground beside me. Kenji sits down beside me and leans back on his elbows, the moonlight softly illuminating his bare chest. He's trembling slightly.

“Are you cold?”

“A little,” he admits. “Are you okay in that getup?”

“My body runs hot. I'm fine.”

Kenji smirks. “There are a lot of innuendos I could make out of that.”

“I appreciate your self-restraint. Do you have any clothes you could put on?”

“On me? At this exact moment? No.”

I chuckle. “Here.” I unfold my suit and slip the mask out from the sleeve, draping it over Kenji's shoulders like a shawl. “Better?”

“Much, thank you. And they say that chivalry's dead.” He smiles at me. “I'm glad we did this.”

“So am I,” I admit. I lie back on the grass, folding my hands behind my head, and gaze up at the sky. Kenji lies back with me, and we sit in comfortable silence, watching the clouds roll through the night sky overhead.

_Elsewhere..._

_In a smoky dive bar on the outskirts of the city, Caleb gulps dark rum, fuming as he regards the news report flickering on the bar's television set._

“--the so-called Man on Fire's motivation for attacking the Bayside DMV remains unclear--”

_Unclear, she says! How could it possibly be unclear?! How could anyone not see how that place was a bastion of the authoritarian system that's stifling this city?!_

“These attacks are the latest in a spree of superpowered crimes affecting our city. Speaking from the Northbridge Police Department this evening, District Attorney Katsaros had this to say...”

 _The image cuts to the DA standing at a podium, her pretty face stern as she regards the press in front of her._ “I want the citizens of Northbridge to understand one thing, and one thing only: your police force with never stop defending you. We will return this city to order. No matter how powerful the forces arrayed against us may be, we will keep fighting. We will not allow these superhumans to menace you any longer. That's a promise.”

_Caleb finishes his drink, a renewed sense of purpose flowing through his veins as the rum burns its way into his gut. They didn't understand why he attacked the DMV. But if he takes out the face of law and order in this city, that'll send a message. That'll send a message they can't ignore. Caleb pushes his empty glass away and staggers away from the bar. It's time to cut off the head of the snake. It's time for Meiko Katsaros to die._


	7. A Night Off

A couple days after our encounter with Caleb, I take Kenji to Prescott Industries to meet with Dax and Poppy. The towering skyscraper's facade has been restored, clearly demonstrating Prescott Industries' eagerness to move on from the events of the gala.

Kenji whistles lowly. “Man, Silas really isn't wasting any time getting back to business, is he? It's already the grand reopening tonight, right?”

“That's right.” We push through the doors to the lobby and find it flawlessly restored to its former glory. “He's pretty eager to show that Prescott Industries has moved on from the Prism Gate disaster. Did you get an invite?”

“Of course. Mom's making an appearance. What kind of son would I be if I didn't show up for moral support?”

“The kind who'd keep a huge secret from her?”

“Woah, no need to guilt me about that again--”

“I'm just teasing you. It's good of you to show your mom moral support.”

“Yeah, well...I'm kinda all she has.”

“Yeah? What about your dad? I mean, if that's not too personal a question.”

He shrugs. “Not at all. My folks are divorced. They're actually still friends, but Dad's living in Tokyo now with my stepmom and my two half-sisters, so it's not like she can call him up for a quick favor or to show up for a public appearance.”

“Fair enough. Come on, Dax and Poppy is pretty excited to meet you. Well, the _other_ you.”

* * *

The air in the lab crackles with excitement. Dax and Poppy are practically vibrating, Dax leaping up from his desk as we enter.

“Tahira! Kenji! Glad you guys could stop by.”

Kenji casts an approving eye over the high-tech facilities. “Not bad. Not bad at all. This is a pretty sweet HQ you've got, Tahira.”

“I know,” I reply with a grin.

“But isn't it a little...public for superhero stuff? Couldn't any of your coworkers just walk in here whenever?”

“Well...technically yes, but we're pretty careful.”

“Besides, it's Saturday,” Poppy points out. “Who could possibly be lame enough to come into the office on Saturday morning?”

Dax clears his throat pointedly. Poppy rolls her eyes. Catching the questioning glance Kenji throws at me, I lean in close.

“I'll explain later,” I murmur under my breath. Kenji nods.

“Say, Dax, why don't you show me what all these machines do?”

Dax brightens instantly. “Sure thing! This, my superhuman friend, is where the magic happens! And by magic, I mean highly invasive bio scans and chemical analyses of your tissue samples.”

“...Uh...”

“If you could just step onto this platform...” Dax gestures and Kenji hesitantly obeys. “Perfect. Now, go ahead and do your thing.”

“By which I assume you mean...” Kenji strikes a pose as his body transforms into bronze, “...this?”

Poppy shakes her head. “I can't believe Tahira didn't realize you were Talos. I mean, it's pretty obvious.”

“Oh, give me a break!” I protest. “You're only saying that because you already know he's Talos.”

Kenji chuckles. “Hey, if my own mother can't recognize me, I feel like Tahira can get a pass.”

“Thank you, Kenji.”

Dax gives Kenji a once-over with his portable scanner-ma-jig, his brow furrowing as he reads the data output.

“Something wrong?” Kenji wonders.

“No, it's just as I suspected. Your body is giving off energy matching that of Tahira's and the Prism Crystal.”

“What do you mean by that? Should I be worried?”

“No. The energy is harmless, at least as far as we know. The weird thing though is that the energy coming off Tahira is somehow stronger. _Much_ stronger.”

“No surprise there,” I remark smugly.

“But it _is_ surprising, though,” Dax protests. “Why would your levels be this much higher? Unless...”

“...Dax?”

A voice from around the corner makes us all start. Dax nearly drops his scanner, and Kenji immediately reverts to flesh and blood, just in time to avoid being seen by a pretty, dark-skinned young woman entering the lab.

“Hazel!” Dax squeaks. “I...didn't know you'd be here today!”

Hazel eyes all of us uncertainly. “I wanted to get in a little extra work over the weekend. What are you doing here?”

“Just...showing some friends where I work.” He smiles shakily. “Guess you caught me showing off a bit.”

Hazel seems satisfied with that explanation, and nods at us in greeting. “Nice to meet you all. Dax has a right to show off. He really is one of the most brilliant scientists on our team.”

Dax blushes a little at the compliment. “Oh, I don't know about that. You know way more about biology than I do.”

“Well, it is my specialty,” Hazel concedes.

“Hazel's the newest member of our science department,” Dax explains. “She specializes in human and animal biology.”

I don't miss the way Poppy's eyes are narrowing. Here we go again, it seems. I smile brightly and thrust my hand in Hazel's direction, hoping to catch her attention.

“I'm Tahira. I work a few floors up. I'm Grayson Prescott's executive assistant.”

“Oh, wow! What's he like?”

“Oh, you know. A good friend, a fair boss...and pretty nice to look at, too.”

Hazel squeaks slightly, clapping a hand over her mouth. “I can't believe you just said that! That's too funny.”

Poppy clears her throat. “Dax, maybe we should find somewhere more private to work on our...secret project?”

“Oh,” Hazel gasps. “I didn't mean to bother you. I can do my work another time if you're using the lab.”

“No, no, don't worry about it, Hazel,” Dax assures her, shooting a brief glare at Poppy. “We were basically wrapping up here. Sorry about my friend.”

“That's okay. See you at the reopening party tonight?”

“Yeah, of course. I'll be there. See you later.”

The four of us shuffle awkwardly out of the lab. With nowhere else to go inside Prescott Industries on a Saturday morning, we head out into the sunlight. As we cross the threshold, Poppy takes my arm and pulls me aside.

“Do you wanna get out of here? I'm getting pretty sick and tired of Dax right about now.”

I sigh inwardly, but I smile at Poppy. I have a feeling she needs me right now. “Sure. Where do you want to go?”

“Does it matter? I just want to go. Maybe we can go shopping for tonight's party or something. ...Not that anyone's bothered to invite me.”

“I'm happy to have you for _my_ plus one,” I assure her. “I know that's not exactly what you want to hear. But we can absolutely go shopping. Whatever you want. Just let me say goodbye to Kenji, okay?”

Poppy nods and sits down on a bench. I go back over to where Kenji is watching us curiously. He raises an eyebrow as I approach.

“Trouble in paradise?”

“Bit of a rough patch,” I admit. “Poppy's mad at Dax for not asking her to the reopening tonight and Dax is mad at Poppy because your friend Skylar gave her his number. It's a whole thing.”

“With Tahira in the middle, I take it?”

“Pretty much.”

“Well, why don't you take care of Poppy, and I'll have a word with Dax.”

“...I'm not so sure about that.”

“Trust me; if there's one thing I love, it's giving unsolicited relationship advice. I've got this.”

I give him a suspicious once-over, but then I glance back at Poppy, looking miserable on her bench and sigh. “Okay, if you say so.”

“I do. I'll see you later tonight. And I'll bring a new, improved Dax with me.”

I try to ignore the various alarm bells clanging in my head, telling myself to concentrate on Poppy. I rejoin her, and we head downtown to the shops.

“So, do you want to talk about whatever happened back there?” I venture to ask.

“No, I don't.”

“If you say so. But you know, you're not really good at hiding things.”

“I'm not _trying_ to hide anything! I'm pissed at Dax, okay?! All he has to do is ask me out! How hard can that possibly be?! Instead, he's flirting with stupid Hazel right in front of me!”

“Hazel's a scientist in one of the most prestigious laboratories in America. I'm not sure I'd call her stupid.”

Poppy rolls her eyes, stomping into a small boutique. I follow her as she marches to a rack of dresses and starts pushing through them with sharp, vicious movements.

“You know what I mean,” she says through gritted teeth. “I'm jealous, okay? Is that what you want to hear?”

“No,” I assure her. “But I will point out that I think Dax is feeling the same way. I mean, you did keep Skylar's number.”

“So? It's not like Dax and I are going out or anything.”

I raise an eyebrow. “Then why can't he flirt with Hazel?”

For a moment, my question stops her. She blinks at me before her features twist into a scowl. “Can't you just let me be unreasonable, Tahira?!”

“Maybe. But I'm not sure that's what you really need from me right now.”

Poppy sighs, turning her gaze back to the dresses in front of her. “Look, I know what you're saying is totally valid. I'm just not in the mood to see things from Dax's perspective, you know?”

“Okay, okay. I'll back off for now. What _are_ you in the mood for?”

“A distraction. I want you to be my personal dress-up dolly right now. I want to put you in something that _Grayson_ won't be able to resist you in.”

I can't help but laugh. “Just don't fall in love with anything too expensive, okay?”

“No promises.”

Luckily this boutique has good deals, because Poppy ends up dressing me in an elegant floor-length, wine-red gown with glittering rhinestone-encrusted straps. And when I see the way it looks on me in the mirror, the way the color pops against my almond-brown skin, I'm a little helpless against it.

“Grayson won't be able to take his eyes off you,” Poppy declares triumphantly as we step outside with my new dress folded up in a bag. I smile at her.

“Feeling better?”

“Yeah. Thanks for being my distraction. ...I'm thinking I might give Skylar a call. Maybe he'll want to come with me tonight.”

“He seems nice,” I admit. “But...are you sure this isn't just about Dax?”

“Yes, I'm sure. Although...if Dax did happen to get jealous and, I don't know, pick up the pace on asking me out, would that be such a bad thing?”

I sigh. “Or you could ask _him_ out,” I dare to point out. “I mean, it's 2023...”

Poppy makes a face, but she doesn't directly answer me. “Look, you don't have to keep worrying about me. I know what I'm doing. I'll bring Skylar as my plus one tonight, and we'll all have a great time. Deal?”

I manage to smile at her. “Deal.”

* * *

That evening finds the lobby of Prescott Industries as packed with people as it was the night of the gala. As I make my way through the crowd, I spot Kenji and Dax coming toward me. Kenji looks me over appreciatively as he approaches.

“Wow, Tahira!”

“What?”

“What do you mean, 'what'? You look incredible!”

“Well, thank you. Poppy and I did a little retail therapy earlier. Is she here yet?”

Dax has his eyes turned toward the entrance. “I think she just walked in...” His expression darkens as he realizes that Poppy is entering arm in arm with Skylar. She smiles as she approaches us.

“Hey, guys. Have we missed anything?”

“Yeah, has Silas Prescott blown anything up yet?” Skylar asks, grinning. Dax scowls.

“For your information, the Prism Gate blowing up gave us tons of valuable data. That's just how science works.”

Skylar spreads his hands in a pose of mock surrender. “Hey, no offense, buddy. I was just joking.”

Kenji clears his throat. “Well, I'm gonna get us some drinks. Dax, Tahira, could you guys give me a hand carrying?”

“Right behind you,” I agree, grabbing Dax by the arm and steering him away from Poppy and Skylar.

“That guy,” Dax grumbles, “is such a...I don't know what, but I know I don't like him.”

“Hey, you're jealous, it's perfectly understandable,” Kenji assures him. “In fact, I'm pretty sure that's exactly how Poppy wants you to feel. Which is why you need to turn it right back on her.”

“No, _no!”_ I hiss. “Dax, that isn't--”

“What do you mean?” Dax asks warily.

“I mean, you need to make _her_ jealous. And I've got a pretty good idea how you can do that.” Kenji grins, gesturing toward Hazel, who stands near the bar, awkwardly sipping her cocktail. I groan, covering my face with my hands.

“Don't, Dax,” I plead. “Please. Please, I will _pay_ you to ignore Kenji right now.”

“Yeeeah...I don't know about this, Kenji.”

“What's there to be unsure about? All you have to do is go talk to her, and I guarantee Poppy will take notice. Besides, Hazel's new here and doesn't know anyone! You're not just gonna let her fend for herself, are you?”

“Well...I wouldn't want to be unfriendly. What do you think, Tahira?”

I throw up my hands in exasperation. “Oh, _now_ you want my opinion?”

“Well...yes?”

I fold my arms, scowling. “It would be _polite_ to say hello,” I concede grudgingly. “Just...do it because you're a nice person. Not to make Poppy jealous, okay?”

“Okay. I can do that.”

Dax walks up to Hazel and catches her attention. As the two of them talk, I scowl at Kenji.

“Real helpful, hotshot,” I gripe under my breath. “I'm having a hard enough time convincing Poppy to make the first move with Dax without you throwing another wrench in the works. “

“Hey, maybe this'll light a fire under her.”

“The problem is that she's expecting Skylar's presence to do the same for Dax, and in the meantime, two innocents are dragged along for the ride!”

He's prevented from answering by the reappearance of Dax and Hazel. It's not long before Poppy and Skylar wander over to join us at the bar.

“Seems like this is where the real party is,” Poppy remarks, her smile looking a little dejected.

“Oh, yeah. We were just shooting the breeze,” I assure her. “Nothing special.”

“What Tahira _means,_ ” Kenji interjects, “is it's nothing we could explain. Hazel was just telling some hilarious stories.”

“...I was?”

Kenji ignores Hazel, grinning at Poppy. “But you kinda had to be here.”

“...You did?” Dax asks.

Poppy shifts nervously. “Well, Skylar was just telling a funny story, too. Weren't you?”

Skylar grins. “Oh, yeah. So I was at Club Zephyr with my two buddies, Jay and Brayden, and they totally didn't believe that I knew the DJ. But then I just went up to the DJ like, 'Sup?' and they were just like, ' _Whaaaaat?_ '”

He pauses and grins knowingly at us like that was the punchline. I manage to force a polite chuckle, but not quick enough to make the moment not-awkward.

“I...think I'm going to get another drink,” Poppy mumbles, blushing miserably under her makeup. “Be right back.”

She storms off and I take off after her, keeping hot on her heels. “Hey, Pop? I think you forgot your Skylar...”

She stops, half-turning toward me. “Oh. I...guess I was a little preoccupied.”

“Look...Dax is acting out. And Kenji isn't helping. But he'll come to his senses.”

“I never said anything about Dax!” Poppy protests angrily, her hands curling into fists. “But...he'd better! He's acting like a dope.”

“Hey now. Language, young lady!”

Poppy turns a melancholy gaze back on the group. But suddenly, her eyes widen and she grabs my arm, digging her fingers in.

“Ow! Hey!”

“Check it out!” she hisses. “Looks like Kenji's being taken in for police questioning!”

I have to admit that when I follow her gaze and see Meiko Katsaros bearing down on her son with a stern expression, I can see what she meant.

“The party has barely started,” the DA announces, loud enough for me to hear at the other end of the bar, “and here you are with a drink in hand. What is this, your fourth cocktail? Fifth?”

“Oh, geez,” I whisper. “Sounds like he needs some backup.”

I sidle back up to the group nonchalantly as Meiko shakes her head disapprovingly.

“When are you going to get it in your head that this wild, playboy club promoter act is a mistake? You could have been so much more...”

“And when will you get it through _your_ head that I _like_ being a wild, playboy club promoter?!” Kenji hisses back.

“Everything is just a joke to you, isn't it? What did I do to deserve this kind of behavior from you, Kenji?”

“Excuse me, Mrs. Katsaros,” I chime in, “he's not trying to upset you. He's just--”

“What would you know about it?” Meiko snaps at me. “Who are you anyway?”

“I'm Tahira. I'm a friend of Kenji's.”

“My son has hundreds of _'friends',_ ” Meiko scoffs. “But how many of them actually care about his well-being?”

“There's nothing fake about our friendship.”

“I hope for Kenji's sake that's true.” Meiko throws one more glare at her son before turning on her heel and marching off.

“Thanks for stepping up to bat for me,” Kenji murmurs to me. His thanks are sincere, but in the next moment, he puts his hand over his heart and pretends to swoon. “My _hero.”_

“You did _not_ just make that joke.”

“Yeah, I did. But I really do appreciate it.”

“Hey, no problem. I...” I trail off suddenly. A familiar figure has caught my eye through the balcony window overhead. My mother is here. Talking to Silas Prescott. But what could she possibly--

“Tahira?” Kenji's voice snaps me back to the present. “Everything okay?”

“Yeah. I just...need to go check something...”

Before he can question me further, I duck into the crowd and speed walk to the door that leads to the balcony. My mind is racing with questions. Why on earth would my mom be here talking to my boss?

I slip out onto the balcony, concealing myself in a shadowy alcove.

“Look around you, Rochelle,” Silas is saying. “Prescott Industries has only gotten stronger since your resignation. And despite your 'bad feeling' about the Prism Crystal, researching its potential has brought us closer than ever to a safe, sustainable future for our world.”

“There's so much you don't understand about that crystal, Silas,” Mom answers softly. “So much _we_ don't understand. Just let it stay lost. Find another path toward the future.”

“Don't be ridiculous. You're asking me to turn my back on the greatest discovery in human history. You can't seriously expect me to do that.”

“... _I_ did.”

“And you never satisfactorily explained why. Come back to Prescott Industries, Rochelle. Your talents are wasted in academia.”

“You know I can't do that.”

“I'm sorry to hear that. If you ever happen to come to your senses, well...you know where to find me.”

I duck deeper into the shadows of the alcove as Silas turns and marches swiftly past me, pulling the glass door to the lobby shut behind him. When I'm sure he's out of sight, I emerge cautiously.

“...Mom?”

Mom gasps, whirling to face me. “Tahira! How long have you been standing there?”

“Long enough.” I feel a frown crease my forehead. “How come you never told me you worked at Prescott Industries before?”

Mom sighs, her shoulders slumping. “It's a long story, Tahira.”

“...I'm not going anywhere,” I point out. Mom's mouth twists in a wry smile.

“Where did you learn to be so stubborn?”

“Where else? From you.”

“I probably deserve that.” She sighs. “The truth is...I worked with Silas on the very first iteration of the Prism Gate. When he and his wife discovered the crystal, we all knew we'd stumbled on a discovery that could change the course of human history. We became obsessed with unlocking its potential. ...But that was years and years ago. Before his wife died. Before...before you came into my life.”

“How much do you actually know about the crystal?”

“Everything. And nothing. Over time, I came to realize that the crystal was beyond our comprehension. Dangerously so.”

“What do you mean?”

“It's not just an energy source. It's more complicated than that. But Silas didn't share my views. He plunged ahead with his research. The risks meant nothing to him. But to me...they were everything. Especially once I had you to take care of. As long as I had waited for you...I just wasn't willing to take chances. Does that answer your question?”

I nod slowly. I still don't know much more about the crystal than I did before, but I get the feeling that Mom doesn't really know any more than I do. At least nothing that would be helpful right now. But I can't fault her reasons for leaving. I've known for almost my whole life that I was adopted, and I've also known for years that the road that brought Mom to me was a rough one for her. A single woman whose attempts at artificial insemination and IVF had repeatedly failed, she turned to adoption to fulfil her dreams of motherhood, but faced discrimination in the process. When the last hurdles were cleared, she still had to wait long enough that she almost lost hope. Then fate intervened and she found me as an infant abandoned in an alley and was approved to foster and finally adopt me.

“...There's a lot I still don't understand,” I admit, but I offer her a smile. “I think the biggest surprise is that you're a secret genius. I mean, I knew you were smart, but to have Silas Prescott hounding you to come back to work for him...that's a whole new level of smart.”

“Okay, sweetie. Enough with the flattery. You can borrow the car this weekend if you need it.” She places her hands on my shoulders and kisses my forehead. “It's getting late. I didn't intend to stay here any longer than I already have. I'm going to head home, but you be careful out there, okay? Do you have a way to get home?”

“I'm sure I can grab a ride with Dax or Poppy or Grayson if I need to. ...You be careful out there, too.”

She grips my shoulders just a little tighter, meeting my dark eyes with her own. “...Be careful of Silas Prescott, Tahira. Okay? I've no objection to you working for his son. Grayson's a good man. But Silas is dangerous. Stay far away from him, as much as you can.”

She gives me another quick kiss before walking away, not waiting to hear my reply. I'm left alone on the balcony, staring bemusedly at her retreating form through the window. Finally, I shake myself out of my daze and return to the lobby. A rush of heat from gathered bodies flows over me, and the hum of voices rise to meet me. As I work my way through the crowd to find my friends, one voice lifts above the others.

“What is this, Grayson?” Silas Prescott snarls. “Some kind of belated teenage rebellion? You callously disregarded my instructions!”

“Dad, I _told_ you I didn't believe in the Bayside redevelopment plan! I _told_ you I wanted no part in it!”

I head toward the voices, keeping myself concealed behind the bodies of guests who are pretending not to listen to the family drama unfolding before them—and a few who aren't pretending at all. From where I am, father and son face each other in profile. Neither seems to notice me.

“You don't get to make those kinds of decisions!” Silas snaps. “And you _certainly_ don't get to take the funding I allotted and open a nightclub!”

“It'll pay for itself in just a few weeks' time, I guarantee it.”

Silas jams his hands into his pockets and shrugs helplessly, shaking his head. “I...I don't know what to say, Grayson. I didn't raise you like this.”

“You didn't _raise_ me at all!” Grayson growls. Every muscle in my body tenses as his words hang in the air between him and his father. Talk about shots fired. Silas' eyes narrow.

“And what do you call the millions I spent sending you to the best boarding school in the country? Summers abroad? College? I am very sorry you had to settle for the best childhood money could buy!”

“I would have traded it all for you to give me the time of day! I would have traded it all for you to _be_ there!”

No one can pretend they aren't listening anymore. All conversation has ceased, and the best some guests can do is keep their backs firmly to the arguing pair. Grayson blushes, looking humiliated as he fixes his gaze on the ground, but Silas chuckles indulgently, giving a dismissive wave of his hand.

“Sorry, folks,” he calls warmly. “Just a little family squabble. We probably should have picked a better place for it, huh?”

There's a ripple of awkward laughter that passes through the guests. After a moment, conversations start to buzz in pockets of the crowd again, and the noise returns to a dull roar. Silas turns to glare at his son.

“I can't talk to you when you're like this,” he hisses under his breath. “Let me know when you're ready to have a mature conversation.”

Grayson doesn't answer. Not that his father gives him half a chance. As he stalks off through the crowd, I sidle up to Grayson and place a hand on his arm.

“Hey. You okay?”

“...I should be used to it by now,” he murmurs, not looking directly at me.

“No one should get used to being spoken to like that.”

Grayson sighs. “Look, Tahira...I appreciate that you're trying to help, but you don't have to spend your evening listening to me complain or trying to cheer me up or whatever.” He turns to face me now with a brave smile. “Really. I mean it. Go have fun.”

I let my hand fall to his and lace our fingers together. “I've had enough of these fancy parties to last me a lifetime, with many more to come, I'm sure. Come on. Let's get out of here. We'll go for a drive or something. We'll be back before anyone misses us.”

* * *

The air outside is mild. I take a deep breath as I step outside with Grayson beside me, savoring the coolness after the heat in the crowded lobby.

“I feel better already,” Grayson admits. “Just getting away from the crowd.”

“I hear ya,” I agree.

“I'm already glad you talked me into this.” He signals to a valet, who nods and leaves to fetch his car. Presumably he doesn't need to be told which one it actually is.

“So, where are we going tonight?”

“I don't know. Maybe we'll just cruise the city. Get some perspective, you know?”

“Sounds fun.”

It's not long before the valet brings the car around. Grayson and I climb in, and he puts the car in gear, carrying us away from Prescott Industries and into the city.

“...You ready to talk?” I ask after a few minutes of silence.

Grayson chuckles. “No wasted words with you are there.”

“Not really, no.”

“That's probably for the best. I can be pretty...reticent when it comes to stuff like this.” His mouth flattens into a grim line. “Something I inherited from my dad, I guess.”

“It's never a good idea to bottle things up. I know it sometimes feels easier than talking about this stuff, but it does a lot more damage in the long run. Eventually, you'll stop being able to let anyone _in._ You know?”

“Yeah,” he concedes. “I guess I'm starting to realize that.”

“So...what are you feeling?”

“I guess...frustrated more than anything. In a weird way, I can appreciate where my dad is coming from. We've never really seen eye-to-eye, and this issue with The Grand...” He shakes his head. “I think for him, it feels like I've drawn a line in the sand between us.”

“I guess I can see that,” I admit. “But for what it's worth, I think you're doing the right thing. I'm glad you didn't go ahead with his plan for Bayside.”

“Me too. I just wish it didn't feel like such an act of aggression. All I wanted to do was protect the people already living there, and in the process I practically declared war on my own father.”

I want to tell him that his father probably doesn't actually see it that way, but truth be told, I'm not so sure myself, and I can't bring myself to actually lie to Grayson. Even if it'd be a comforting lie.

“He did seem pretty angry,” I admit softly.

“In his world, you're either with him or against him. And I guess I'm against him now.”

“But he's still your dad. If you guys could just talk this out...”

“You saw how well _that_ went just now. ...My dad doesn't really 'talk things out'. The best I can hope for is that he'll decide it's not worth his time and move on. And all I can do now is wait and see what he does next.”

I don't really have anything to say to that. But I reach over to gently rub his upper arm. Over the course of our conversation, Grayson has driven us to the outskirts of the city. After a little while longer, he comes to a stop on an overlook and puts the car in park. Through the windshield, the Northbridge skyline sprawls before us, lights glittering in the dark.

“...Thanks, by the way,” Grayson says after a long moment of silence. “Thanks for making me do this.”

“I'm just sorry I couldn't be more helpful.”

“You _have_ been helpful. Really. If I'm honest, you're the only person I've really opened up to about this stuff.”

“Really?”

“Really.” Grayson reclines his seat just a little and settles back, letting his hand rest on the center console. I dare to place my hand on top of his and interlace our fingers. He turns his face toward me. Drawn like magnets, we lean toward each other and our lips meet, our mouths open and inviting. A hint of evening stubble on his chin pricks mine as I press into the kiss, pulling him gently closer. When the kiss breaks and we pull back to look at each other, there is a smile on his lips.

“I've been wanting to do that for a long, _long_ time.”

“Me too,” I agree breathlessly. My heart is fluttering behind my breast, and my smile feels like it might split my face. “Glad we weren't interrupted this time.”

“Have I told you yet that you look amazing tonight?”

“Not yet. But I won't hold it against you.” I can't hold back. I grasp Grayson's lapel and pull him in to kiss him again. His hands rise to grasp my flushed face and we melt into each other as everything wrong with the world seems to vanish in sweetness.

_Elsewhere..._

_On a roof overlooking Prescott Industries, Caleb paces impatiently, puffing on a cigarette. He knows Meiko Katsaros is going to be here tonight. No way the DA would miss a chance to push her control freak agenda. But he's been here since the party started, and he hasn't caught a glimpse of her yet. He must have missed her coming in, but he can't possibly have missed her leaving, right?_

_Just when he's starting to seriously question whether he actually has missed her, his target appears, flagging down the valet to fetch her car. Tossing aside his cigarette, Caleb summons the flames to his hands. She's wide open, just browsing her phone while she waits for her car. Time to die, Meiko Katsaros..._

_He raises his hand to hurl the fireball dancing above his palm. But before he can follow through, a hand clamps down on his wrist with a vise-like grip. His flames sputter out in his surprise as he turns to see the solid stone fist that encircles his wrist._

_“Not so fast, New Guy,” Stonewall growls._

_Caleb's eyes widen. “B-boss, what are you doi--” A single punch and Caleb goes down, slumping toward the concrete roof. Stonewall hefts the unconscious man in one smooth motion, throwing him unceremoniously over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes._

_“Sorry, kid. But we got big plans for you.”_


	8. Hoodwinked

As is our usual custom, Poppy and I get dinner together on Monday night. Afterwards, we head back toward Prescott Industries.

“I'm glad we still do this,” Poppy remarks as we stroll down the sidewalk, savoring the warm evening air. “Even with you being a superhero and all.”

“Me too. It's nice to get away from it all. Even if it's just for an hour or two.” We lapse into silence for a moment. Finally, I venture to ask, “So, do you think you're gonna see Skylar again?”

The look on her face gives me my answer before she actually whines, “Ugh. Not likely. He's...well, let's just say he's not really my type after all.”

“Yeah, I kinda picked up on that,” I confess.

“I mean, don't get me wrong, he's a good guy. I'm just...I'm looking for someone with a little more depth. Someone kind, and intelligent, with a sense of humor...”

“Someone like Dax,” I finish.

“I wasn't trying to make Dax jealous, if that's what you're thinking,” she says defensively. “I just wanted him to...realize that he should ask me out, you know?”

“Yeah, I picked up on that, too.”

“Well, aren't you Miss Perceptive,” she grumbles good-naturedly.

We've reached the door of Prescott Industries, and I hold it open for Poppy before I follow her into the lobby.

“Well, you were awfully insistent on walking me back to the lab. The lab, where Dax is.”

“I am _not_ here to see Dax!” she insists. “I'm here to watch your combat training with Talos! I mean, who wouldn't want to watch two superheroes working out together?”

“Whatever you say. ...I guess it is an opportunity not many would pass up.”

“Especially if it offers a chance to see Talos with his shirt off again.”

I roll my eyes, poking her shoulder. “You're hopeless.”

“Hey, watch it!” she laughs. “Your super strength extends to your fingertips, too!”

When we reach the lab, Dax is already there, watching a video on his computer with Hazel sitting beside him. She's pressed close to him, pointing out something on the screen.

“See? The male puffer fish makes this intricate, perfectly symmetrical circular pattern on the seafloor to attract a mate.”

“Wow! How did I not know about this?”

“Because you majored in engineering instead of being a cool biologist like me,” Hazel teases.

“Hey!” Dax looks up as Poppy and I approach. In an instant, the atmosphere in the lab switches from light and jovial to something that crackles with tension. “Poppy! Tahira! I didn't know you'd be back so soon...”

“Oh!” Hazel looks up awkwardly. “Should I leave...?”

Poppy retreats a few steps. “You know what, Tahira...I think I'm gonna head home.”

“Are you sure? I thought you were looking forward to this.”

Poppy's eyes are fixed on Dax and Hazel, at their two chairs pressed against each other. She nods. “Yeah, I'm sure. I have to be up early to scout locations for a fashion shoot tomorrow, and I really should get some sleep.”

“If you say so. We'll talk later, okay?”

“Yeah. See you.”

Poppy disappears, leaving an awkwardly melancholy silence in her wake. After a moment, Hazel stands up.

“You know, I think I should be going, too. I've also got an early start. For...lab inspections.”

“Oh...” Dax shakes himself out of his temporary stupor. “Okay. See you tomorrow?”

Hazel mumbles a quick confirmation and scoots out the lab door. Dax groans, burying his face in his hands.

“What am I doing wrong, Tahira?!” he whines. I sigh, going to put a hand on his shoulder.

“You're not doing anything wrong, Dax. You're just being friendly with two women who happen to like you, and there's nothing wrong with staying friends while you figure out if you want to be more than that with either of them.”

“But I feel like a black hole sucking the joy out of the room...”

“It's always tricky when people are emotionally invested.”

“It feels like things went from zero to light speed _real_ quick,” he complains. “I'm not trying to hurt anyone's feelings, you know?”

“Of course. But at some point, you will have to be clear with Poppy and Hazel about how you feel and what you want. You know that, right?”

“Yeah, I know.”

“...And for what it's worth, I'm giving Poppy the same advice. And I'd give it to Hazel if I knew her better.”

Dax offers me a small but grateful smile, but before he can say anything else, Kenji appears in the doorway, his expression bewildered.

“I just passed two very sad-looking girls on the way in here. Have you been breaking hearts, Dax?”

“No! Well...maybe. I don't know.”

Kenji clicks his tongue, shaking his head. “Well, I hope you go easier on us, at least.”

“Uh...what?”

Kenji raises an eyebrow. “Combat training? I thought you were gonna teach us how to 'work together' and 'fight as one' and all that.”

“Oh! Right!” He stands up, his face set with determination. “Follow me. Tahira, you'll probably want to put on your suit for this.”

* * *

Once I'm suited up, I meet Dax and Kenji in the testing facility. I cast my eye over the room and find my eye immediately drawn to a mannequin wearing a sleek black suit in the shooting range.

“What's that, Dax? You're not making supersuits for anyone else, are you?”   
“Heh, don't worry. That's official Prescott Industries tech. The suit's made of a proprietary reflective fabric that's impossible for security cameras and the like to detect or photograph. In other words, the perfect infiltration suit.”

“What exactly does Prescott Industries need with a suit like that?” Kenji wonders.

“I...value my job too much to ask those kinds of questions.” Dax clears his throat. “Moving on, why don't we get this show on the road? The sooner you guys learn to work together, the better.”

“Count me in!” Kenji strips off his jacket and shirt and begins stretching. “It's about time Tahira and I had a little sparring match.”

“Wait, we're fighting each other? I thought this was supposed to be some kind of teambuilding thing?”

“It _is,”_ Dax confirms. “The whole point of this exercise is teaching you to fight together, not against each other.”

“What?! I came ready for a competition, and you're springing a teambuilding exercise on us? What is this, summer camp?”

I can't help rolling my eyes. “Seriously? Dax tells you we're going to learn to work together and you come here expecting we're going to compete with each other? This isn't a superhero pissing contest. We _need_ to learn teamwork.”

“I guess the fight against Caleb didn't exactly go our way,” he concedes.

“And that's why I've decided to put you both through...” Dax presses a button on his computer, and jets of flame shoot out of the test range walls. He grins as we both yelp in surprise. “For this challenge, you'll both have to get to the other side of my obstacle course.”

He gestures to the far side of the room, where a pair of tablets is mounted on columns just beyond the gauntlet of flamethrowers.

“When you reach the other side, place your palms on those screens. That's the only way to shut off the flames. ...Seriously. I forgot to add a remote shutoff switch.”

“Oh, wonderful,” I groan. Kenji laughs, taking a step closer to the flames as a wave of energy seals him in shining bronze.

“You seriously call this a challenge? Maybe you forgot, but I'm pretty much fireproof.”

“You might be, but I'm not!” I point out. “Not completely, anyway.”

“Exactly. If you're going to get through this, you'll need to work together. Flames aren't the only thing keeping you from the other side. Kenji, you may be fireproof, but in most other respects, you're much less resilient than Tahira.”

Kenji makes a face, but doesn't answer that directly. “Well, stick close to me, Tahira. I'll shield you from the flames.” I stick close behind Kenji as he takes his first hesitant step into the obstacle course, turning sharply to shield me from a sudden burst of flames. “So far, so good...”

“So far, all we've practiced is using you as a human shield.” But then a cement mannequin pops out of a concealed compartment in the floor. Kenji yelps as it suddenly comes speeding toward us on a rail embedded in the floor. I pivot swiftly to place myself between Kenji and the concrete monstrosity, and drive my fist into its center. The mannequin shatters on impact, spraying us with bits of rubble.

“...Nice,” Kenji concedes as we continue to inch our way through the gauntlet of flamethrowers. We inch and pivot our way toward the screens, with Kenji shielding me from the heat and me punching and kicking at the concrete obstacles as they pop up.

“We're almost through!” I call triumphantly. But just as we pass through the last cone of flames, we're beset by six mannequins, appearing on either side of us. “Oh, shit! What now?”

“We have to coordinate our strikes so we're not overwhelmed. Just follow my lead, and when I say start punching--”

“I start punching. Got it.”

The cement figures start rushing toward us, and I square my shoulders.

“Ready? Three, two, one...start punching!”

I punch. I punch again. I keep punching. Concrete shatters beneath my fists; one, two, three, four, five, six...the mannequins crumble to my onslaught. At last we stop, panting, and look around at the wreckage of splintered stone scattered in a vague circle at our feet.

“Now that's what I call teamwork!” Dax crows.

“Thanks,” I call back. “Now, I don't know about you, but I'm ready to get this over with!”

“Yeah, I'm with you.”

Kenji covers me through the last gout of flames, and we finally press our palms to the screens waiting for us. The flames shut off, and the three of us breathe a collective sigh.

“Thank goodness you two made it through. I wasn't looking forward to telling Mr. Prescott that I burned the company lab down.”

Kenji passes me a sly grin as Dax returns to his computer. “Not bad back there. But it's a good thing you had me to deflect those flames, huh?”

“Oh, really? I seem to remember that I'm the one who did the smashing. It's clear who's carrying this duo.”

“Think you're up for an actual sparring match?”

I raise an eyebrow. “You really want to pick a fight with me?”

“I might. But not here. I've got a pretty sweet setup back at my place. And I wouldn't mind a little home field advantage.”

“Not that it'll do you much good,” I reply with a smirk. “All right, hot shot. We'll see what you got. Just let me grab my gym clothes out of my company locker.”

* * *

Kenji's apartment is a level of luxurious I have never expected to encounter in my life. Inside, a private elevator takes us down to an unlisted basement level, where the doors open to reveal a state-of-the-art training room.

“And this...” Kenji says, stepping out of the elevator with a flourish, “is where the magic happens, as they say. Fully equipped weight room, sparring mats, Wing Chun training dummy...everything the modern gentleman-hero needs to discreetly hone his badassness.”

“Sweet man cave, bro,” I remark, stepping out behind him.

“Man cave? I'm insulted. There's not even a whiskey bar in here. Hardly man cave material by my standards.”

“I stand corrected. Bat cave, then?”

“Batman doesn't have superpowers and you know it.”

“I do know it,” I concede. I make my way to the far wall, where a gleaming display of trophies stretches from floor to ceiling. “Tell me more about this oh-so-subtle trophy case.”

“Oh, you noticed that, did you? Martial arts trophies.”

I browse the brass plaques on the trophies. “Taekwando, karate, muay thai, greco-roman wrestling, wushu...my, my, you've been busy. Where did you get the time for all these?”

“My dad insisted I learn from the best. He made me train with the finest instructors he could find. It seemed fitting that I continue the trend. Long story short, I now have a case full of tournament trophies.”

“Interesting. Are you trying to impress me?”

Kenji blushes, his eyes widening. “Woah, woah! That was not my intention!”

“Oh, really?” I can't resist teasing. “It sounds like you took me down here for more than a tumble on the mats. Honestly, though, I'm not sure you can keep up with me.”

“That sounds dangerously close to a challenge, Tahira.”

“Well, we did come down here for a reason, didn't we?”

“Of course. Where are my manners?”

He gestures towards the mat, and we walk over together, Kenji stripping off this jacket and shirt as he goes. He rolls his shoulders, and energy ripples through the muscles of his back, leaving behind a brilliant bronze sheen. He turns towards me with a cocky smirk on his bronze face, taking up a fighting stance.

“Shall we dance?”

“I'm not gonna go easy on you,” I warn. “We need to know each other's strengths and weaknesses if we're gonna up our crimefighting game.”

“Whatever you need to tell yourself, darling. You're welcome to take the gloves off.” He springs into action, charging at me with a flurry of quick shadowboxing punches. “Come on, hero! Show me whatcha got!”

I backpedal, parrying Kenji's hands as fast as I can manage. He moves with the practiced precision of a boxer, but I'm not wholly unexperienced in that arena myself.

“Not bad for a playboy.”

“You ain't seen nothing yet!” He shifts his hips, spinning his body as he leaps into a roundhouse kick. I leap back, evading his foot. It's really on now, as he lunges at me with surprising speed. I catch his hands, and the two of us lock in a tense grapple.

“Solid grip you got there, Tin Man. Don't think it can match mine, though.”

Kenji ducks under my arm and spins behind me, pinning my arm to my back and squeezing me in a tight wrestling hold.

“I've still got a few tricks up my sleeve!”

I grab Kenji's arm, summoning my strength, and spin on my heels. Kenji yelps as I heft him off his feet, whipping him across the room like an Olympic hammer thrower. He hits the mat with a thunderous metallic clang. Before he can get up, I dive onto him, straddling his stomach and pinning his wrists to the mat. He puts up a struggle for a minute, but finally realizes he can't shift me. I grin down at his bronze face.

“I win.”

Kenji smirks up at me. “All right, hero. I yield. ...What are you giving me that look for?”

“I just realized you've got _a lot_ of work to do. Pretty clear which of us is the weakest link.”

“Ouch! Way to kick a guy when he's down!”

I shrug. “I'm just saying. And maybe you deserve to be taken down a peg.”

“You've certainly done that. You've got the infamous Talos beneath you, completely at your mercy. What are you going to do with him?”

I answer that question by standing up and offering him a hand. “Here.”

“Good sportsmanship, too? Ever the goodie two-shoes.”

“I proved my point. I don't have to be a jerk about it.”

“You're a better hero than I am.” He accepts my hand, getting to his feet and dusting himself off as another ripple of energy wipes the bronze sheen from his skin. “Morally, that is.”

“Roguish demeanor aside, you're not bad at this. Maybe there's hope for you yet.”

“Likewise, Tahira. Hell, if I was a team player, I might consider letting you be my full-time partner.”

I open my mouth to retort, but my phone buzzing interrupts me. I go over to pick it up, and a cold knot settles in the pit of my stomach.

“Oh, no...”

Kenji frowns. “What's wrong?”

“It's Dax. Someone broke into the lab.” I look around for my purse. “I gotta go.”

* * *

I return to Prescott Industries in my super suit. Back at the lab, nothing is obviously disturbed. But a strange silence hangs over the space.

“I don't see anyone,” I murmur. “But something feels off.”

 _“Yeah. I'm monitoring the lab's security feed, but I don't see anyone but you.”_ Dax sucks in a sharp breath. _“Wait...wait, a minute! I know what happened! Tahira, check out the testing facility, but be careful!”_

“On it!”

I creep toward the testing facility. Once there, I immediately realize what Dax was talking about. A young woman with long, dark hair stands in the center of the room, wearing the stealth suit that Dax showed me earlier. Well, that explains why the security cameras didn't pick up on anything. I don't know if I made a noise somehow, or if she just sensed my presence, but in the next moment, she whirls to face me, our eyes locking. She smiles coyly.

“Haven't I seen you somewhere before?”

I feel like I've seen her somewhere before, too, but the half-mask covering her eyes is making it difficult to pin down where.

“There _is_ someone here,” I confirm to Dax. “She stole your suit.”

_“I knew it! That's why she's not showing up on the cameras! Curse my ingenious technology! She can't get away with the suit, Tahira! You have to stop her!”_

“Don't worry. She's mine.”

“You aren't planning on getting in my way, are you?” the woman asks in a purr. “Because I warn you right now, that wouldn't be too smart.”

I lunge for her, but she makes no attempt to dodge, simply raising one hand. The air around me shimmers, and my motion slows to a glacial crawl. I no longer need to remember her face to know where I've seen her before.

“You!” I hiss, straining against the invisible bonds of her power. She grins, a wicked twinkle in her eyes.

“I really should be going, but I can't resist confirming a suspicion.” She steps closer and peels off my mask. I instinctively move to stop her, except that I can barely move at all. “I thought so. Tahira, wasn't it? From the club. You're not exactly a fast learner, are you?” She laughs, replacing my mask over my eyes. “Well, I'd love to stay and chat, but this suit's abilities have opened up a whole new world for me, and I don't want to miss a second of it. Bye for now, _hero.”_

She throws me a wink, and disappears, dashing out of the lab. I struggle fruitlessly against the invisible molasses I've been trapped in. “Dax! What do I do?! She's getting away!”

_“She's not there to keep up the slow-motion field! It'll likely let up any second!”_

Dax is proven right after only about a minute, but it feels a lot longer. Still, I can move at normal speed again, and I take off in the direction I saw the woman run off in—and running feels so damn good. I sprint out into the lobby, and spot her coming up against Santiago in front of the lobby doors.

“Stop right there!” Santiago orders, going for the taser on his belt.

“Sorry, no time to talk!” the woman sings blithely, and holds up a hand. Just as Santiago fires the taser, he finds himself caught in the same shimmering slow-motion field that held me captive only moments ago. The taser's electrodes hang in midair, blue sparks of electricity dancing along their leads in slow-motion. Santiago's eyes widen. The woman slips out the lobby doors as I reach him. I see her glance over her shoulder and smile. She flicks her wrist, and the taser leads accelerate toward me. I react on instinct, dropping low and sliding beneath the taser and through Santiago's legs.

“Wait a second, who are _you?!_ ” Santiago demands.

“No one important, don't worry about it!” I call as I leap to my feet.

I push through the doors and out into the courtyard as the mysterious woman reaches a busy street nearby. She freezes at the curb as cars whoosh past her in both directions, blocking her escape. I think I have her, until she casts her arms out and exudes a shimmering sphere of energy, slowing the cars to a near standstill.

“Damn it!” I growl aloud as she reaches the other side and the slow-motion field dissolves. But there's one thing I can do that she can't. I leap into the air and soar over the cars to land smoothly on the other side of the street. The mystery girl is waiting at the foot of a nearby building. She sketches a sarcastic salute before firing a grappling hook into the air and pulling herself up onto the roof. I can't help smirking to myself. So, she hasn't figured me out quite yet.

I take flight, landing on the roof several seconds ahead of her, with enough time to fold my arms and wait for her to finish her ascent. She climbs over the roof's ledge and turns toward me, her eyes widening. I can't help but enjoy the fact that I've clearly thrown her off.

“Oh! But...you were...” She glances back over the edge as if she has to confirm that I'm not still down there. I grin.

“Did I ever mention I can fly? Because I can fly.”

“Riiight. Well. That changes things.”

“I'm also very resilient, and I can hit a lot harder than the average person. You can keep slowing me down, but eventually, I'm gonna catch up to you. And trust me, that isn't something you want.”

“You could always just let me go,” she suggests, batting her dark eyes behind her mask.

“That suit doesn't belong to you.”

“Oh, doesn't it? I guess I'd better put it back then, huh?” She takes a step closer, a wicked smile on her lips. “Unless...you'd rather take it off me.”

In any other circumstances, I wouldn't mind flirting with a beautiful woman, but I wasn't born yesterday. I take a step back.

“You stay back!” I bark. She ignores me, stepping closer, her eyes locked with mine.

“Aw, do I scare you? I'm sorry. You're just so _irresistible..._ ”

I feel my heels bump against the roof's ledge, and she raises her hands to shove me hard. The momentum is just enough to throw me off balance and send me tumbling back over the edge of the roof. I reflexively try to fly, but a slow-motion field has caught me like a net, suspending me in the air. The mystery woman laughs, waving.

“Sorry to run out on our little date, but I've got places to be, people to rob. You know the drill. But we should definitely do this again some time. I like winning. And as far as I can tell, you just can't get enough of losing.”

Before I can reply, she leaps backward off the opposite ledge and swings away on her grappling hook. I'm left falling in slow motion down the length of the building, the lights of the city blazing around me.

“Well, that could have gone better,” I sigh. “I feel like I'm saying that a lot lately.”

 _“Guess superheroing takes practice like anything else,”_ Dax remarks. _“Once that slow-mo field disperses, let's meet up to plan our next move.”_

“Where do you want to meet?”

_“Somewhere we won't be overheard.”_

_“Hey, sorry!”_ Poppy suddenly chimes in. _“I was in the shower. What did I miss?”_

“Well, I'm falling thirty stories in slow-motion, and Dax wants to meet up.”

_“Were you guys planning a secret meeting without me? No fair!”_

_“Hey, you are totally welcome to join. In fact, attendance is mandatory.”_

_“Cool. Actually, I know just the place.”_

“Hey, did you miss the part where I'm falling thirty stories in slow-motion?”

 _“Oh, hush,”_ Poppy chides mildly. _“You can fly, you're fine. I'll send you the address. See you in fifteen.”_

* * *

Once freed of the slow-motion field, I fly home to change. With my suit tucked into a backpack, I head back into the night and set my GPS to the address Poppy sent me. I follow the directions down a dark alleyway to a green door illuminated by a single lightbulb overhead. I knock hesitantly on the door, which promptly swings open to admit me. Inside appears to be...some kind of speakeasy? It's dimly lit and hard to make out much, but it does look like a barroom, set with comfortable armchairs and wide leather sofa. The soft strains of a bossa nova song underscore a gentle murmur of conversation as I pick my way across the bar, searching for Dax and Poppy.

“Tahira!” Dax's voice comes out of the shadows. “Over here!”

I turn toward the voice and find Dax and Poppy waiting for me in a corner booth.

“What is this place?” I ask Poppy as I slide into the booth beside her. “Couldn't you find us a nice parking garage or something?”

“Please, who do you take me for? If we're meeting in secret, we're gonna do it in style! This is a one-night-only pop-up speakeasy that only the most savvy food bloggers know about. It's hidden, the clientele is discreet, and it'll be gone by tomorrow morning!”

“This place is awesome!” Dax declares. “Nice work, Poppy!”

Poppy grins at him, and it seems the tension from earlier this evening has been forgotten. Well...for a moment, anyway. Then Dax tries to smile back, and Poppy looks away. Dax swallows, and looks down at his drink.

“Anyway, the reason I called this meeting is that our secret lair needs to be a little more...well, secret. And it definitely shouldn't double as our place of employment. In hindsight, that wasn't exactly the best choice.”

“Agreed, but where else could we go? My apartment would be even more obvious, wouldn't it?”

“Well, therein lies the problem.”

“You know,” Poppy says thoughtfully, “we may consider taking a page from Stonewall's book.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, after I left the lab, I decided to just get started scouting locations for this photoshoot we're doing at _Motif._ The theme is 'urban decay,' so we're juxtaposing high fashion with abandoned factories, apartment buildings, that sort of thing.”

“Hang on. You've been doing this _alone?_ At _night?_ ”

Poppy blinks at me. “Uh...yes?”

“Doesn't that seem extremely dangerous?” Dax ventures, echoing my thoughts.

“Hey, I know my stuff, okay? Don't worry. Besides, I ended up finding the most incredible space on the top floor of the old clocktower in the city center. Apparently it's a local landmark that the city's historical society tried to restore a while back, but weird zoning laws made that pretty much impossible.”

“So it's just been sitting there, untouched for...how long exactly?”

“Not sure. Decades, maybe? There's definitely a lot of dust. But I'm sure it wouldn't take much to fix it up. So long as we work together, right?”

“Probably, but I'd have to see it first,” I remark. “How soon can we go check it out?”

“We can go now, if you want. Though I understand if you're tired after all the excitement tonight. And you should really order at least one drink while we're here. They're amazing.”

“All right, one drink. Then clocktower, then bed.”

* * *

Poppy wasn't kidding about the dust, but the room at the very top of the old clocktower is certainly spacious, and the stairs are plenty sturdy.

“That was a _lot_ of stairs,” Dax complains. “Why couldn't you have just flown us up, Tahira?”

“You sit in a lab all day, Dax,” I retort. “A little exercise isn't gonna kill you.”

“Are you sure? Because I feel pretty close to death right now. I think I need to sit down for a while.”

I scuff the floor with my toe, sending up a cloud of dust. “I'm not sure I'd recommend sitting on this floor...”

“Well...we can clean up dust, right?” Poppy says blithely.

“Not exactly well equipped, though. If this is gonna be our new headquarters, we're going to need a lot more tech.”

“Well, we can bring our laptops up here, can't we?” Poppy asks.

“I think we'll want more than internet access. We'll need a workspace for suit repairs and modifications, equipment for chemical analyses and the like. Basically, we'll need everything we had back at the lab.”

“How do you expect to do that?” I ask.

“We've got tons of outdated lab equipment that I can...'borrow'...for work purposes, of course. We can just call this our remote office. And at Prescott Industries, 'outdated' means that it's one step behind our current tech, but five-hundred steps beyond the rest of the world's...except maybe Rourke International. Only trouble is I'll need some help moving it and getting it all set up here.”

“We can help with that,” Poppy points out. “And as long as we're improving our tech, might I suggest we do a little redecorating? We're going to be spending a lot of time here. It's where we'll hold meetings, where we'll bond, and unwind. It should feel like home.”

“Sounds like we've got our work cut out for us.” Dax and Poppy exchange a smile before they can stop themselves.

“Yeah, but I like where this line of thinking is taking us,” I remark. “You're both right. We should upgrade tech and décor.”

“Yay!” Poppy cheers. “Redecorating party!”

I groan a little, even though I can't help smiling. “I'm not getting an early night tonight, am I?”

“It would be better to do all this...after hours,” Dax points out. “It's only about 10:30. We can be done in good time if we work together.”

“Oh, all right. You go back to the lab and see what you can scrounge up. Poppy and I will see what we can scare up in terms of furniture. Northbridge Mall is open until midnight, right?”

* * *

It's nearly three in the morning by the time we finish, but I gotta admit, the end result is satisfying.

“Well, guys? Is it everything you ever dreamed it would be?”

“It's...it's _perfect,”_ Dax breathes.

Poppy throws herself onto the plush sofa in the center of the room, sprawling luxuriously while Dax surveys the rows of gleaming computer monitors and metallic work stations.

“It's more than that,” Poppy declares. “It's a place to meet, to regroup, to recharge...it's _home._ Well, a home away from home, anyway.”

“Plus, with this equipment, we'll be _much_ more effective at providing support when you're out in the field, Tahira.”

“I'll take your word for it. For now, all I want is the support of a warm bed. It's been a long, _long_ night.”

“Get some rest,” Poppy tells me. “Crime will still be there in the morning.”

“At least it's reliable. Good night, you two.”

“Good night, Tahira.” As I make my way carefully down the stairs, I hear Dax behind me. “Poppy, could I maybe...walk you home?”

Poppy's response makes me smile: “Uh...yeah! That'd be nice.”

_Elsewhere..._

_On the other side of the city, Caleb comes to and finds himself cuffed to a chair in a dingy warehouse._

_“Wha...what happened...I--”_

_“Morning, sleepyhead?” Stonewall sings mockingly._

_“You!” Caleb snarls, pulling against his bonds._

_“Yep. Me. I think it's time you and I had a little chat, new guy.”_

_“My name is Caleb.”_

_“Your name is 'the guy tied to the chair'. My name is 'the guy in control'. So maybe you should shut up and listen.” When Caleb shuts his mouth and glares, Stonewall nods, apparently satisfied. “We've got a new contract, kid. And a new employer. Someone with a lot of...connections. If you play your cards right, you could get rich. If not...well, let's just say you wouldn't like what happens next.”_

_“Oh yeah? What happens next?”_

_Footfalls emerging from the shadows draw Caleb's attention. Silas Prescott steps into the light, a wry smile playing across his face._

_“I bring you to my lab and find out what makes you tick. Why the crystal gave you powers and not me.”_

_Caleb's eyes widen. “...Silas Prescott?” He twists in his chair to scowl at Stonewall. “You're working with him?! Now you've really sold out!”_

_“This is the future, kid. Best get with the program.”_

_Caleb bows his head as Silas takes a step closer, smirking down at his captive. “I'd listen to your boss if I were you. My research requires fairly drastic methods...dissection, for starters. But don't worry. I'll keep you alive for as much of it as I can.”_

_“Oh yeah?” Caleb mutters. “I wish I could say the same.”_

_Before Silas can quite react, Caleb leaps to his feet, the handcuffs falling away as his body erupts into flames. The other two men recoil, their eyes wide._

_“I thought you said he was restrained!” Silas hisses._

_“He was!” Stonewall insists._

_Caleb laughs. “Please. I've been in and out of juvie since I was thirteen. Think I don't know how to slip out of handcuffs?”_

_“What do we do, boss?” one of Stonewalls underlings hisses._

_“Get Mr. Prescott to safety! I'll handle the new guy!” Stonewall transforms himself, bearing down on Caleb. “All right, kid! Show me what you got!”_

_“Thought you'd never ask!” Caleb swings his fists, leaving bright trails of fire as he closes on Stonewall._

_“Not bad. But I'd say you've still got a lot to learn!” Stonewall catches one of Caleb's fists in his huge hand, wincing as the flames sputter against his stone skin._

_“Oh yeah? Then teach me something, old man!” Caleb spins away and sprays a stream of searing flames at Stonewall, who raises an elbow to block it. Stonewall grits his teeth and advances on Caleb, the fire blazing against his guard. “What's wrong? Too hot for ya?”_

_“I've had worse.”_

_Stonewall closes the distance with a vicious kick, sending Caleb flying backward. The spray of fire arcs wildly as he falls, and flames spread throughout the warehouse._

_“The whole place is catching fire!” Stonewall's goon shouts. “We gotta get outta here!”_

_“Shut up! Not before I'm done with his brat! I--” Stonewall's snarls are cut off as he starts to cough, choking on the black smoke that envelopes the room. By the time he recovers, Caleb is nowhere to be seen. “Where...where the hell...?!”_

_“He must have escaped, boss!”_

_“Idiot! How could you have let his slip past you?!”_

_“It's not all bad news.” Silas Prescott steps through the smoke, smiling contentedly. “After all, we did manage to retrieve this.”_

_He pulls a large, pink crystal from his pocket, and holds it up. It gleams in the light of the roaring fire._

_“The crystal...”_

_Silas nods, smiling. “Now that I know its true potential, there's no telling what I'm capable of.”_


	9. Burnout

I don't know what Grayson paid the workers at The Grand to get them to work so quickly, but there are surely some very well-greased palms in Northbridge, because I could swear it's hardly been a month since he showed me the property, and already I'm attending the opening night party. I have a feeling that he wanted to hurry it along in order to have something to show his father. Poppy comes over so we can get ready together. I let her do her make-up first, lying on the couch and absently scrolling through my phone while she uses the bathroom mirror.

“I can't wait to see what the club looks like with all the renovations finished. Have you been able to get any sneak peeks?”

“Not for a couple weeks, but if it’s anything like what Grayson and Kenji have been envisioning, it should be incredible.”

“Please tell me you've got a killer club outfit planned.”

I chuckle. “I've got some ideas. But I am well-trained. I know whatever I wear, I have to run it by my fashion-savvy bestie first.”

“Damn straight. Let's see what you're considering.”

About fifteen minutes later, I'm properly attired in a shimmery blue crop top, tight black jeans and high-heeled boots. Poppy completes my look with a gold-colored choker necklace, and sweeps my hair up into casual chignon, held in place with a bead-covered clip.

“There,” she says, tugging a few tendrils free to frame my face. “Effortlessly sexy. It's a look that says, 'Oh, this? I threw this look together in the dark. I'm just _that_ good'.”

“A very loquacious look, isn't it?”

“The best looks are.”

“So...is this attention you're putting onto my outfit a way of avoiding being nervous about seeing Dax tonight?”

Poppy turns toward the mirror, dabbing at an invisible lipstick smear at the corner of her mouth. “If it was, bringing it up wouldn't exactly be helpful. And why should I be nervous, anyway?”

“Well, you've been uncharacteristically silent on the subject since we moved our base into the clocktower, but it seems you guys have been getting along better. And we all know what happens when you combine drinks, dancing, and retro-chic cabaret-style décor.”

“We do?”

I put a hand over my heart, fluttering my fingers. “ _Romance.”_

“You're ridiculous. Besides, I'm starting to think should just...I don't know...chill out as far as Dax is concerned.”

“What do you mean?”

“I just...I don't like the kind of person I've been lately, you know? Hazel seems perfectly nice, and I've been so rude to her. And then there was the whole thing with Skylar, and--”

“Yeah, you were kind of mean,” I concede. Poppy nods.

“I wasn't feeling like myself, I guess. And I want to feel like myself. From now on, I'm just going to be Dax's friend and not expect anything else. Unless something _does_ happen, of course. Which...would be nice...”

I sigh. It's not exactly where I hoped she'd end up, but it's a start. Still, I wouldn't be so disappointed if I didn't know that her crush was, in fact, requited.

“Poppy, maybe you should _make_ something happen. I still don't understand why you don't just _tell_ Dax you're into him.”

“Because I'm _shy,_ Tahira! You know this about me!”

“Yeah, about this, but not about anything else!”

“So? Who ever said I needed to be consistent?”

“Well, I guess I'm kinda saying that.”

“Well, consider your request denied. Now, enough about me. How's _your_ love life going?”

I quickly turn toward the mirror to start applying my own make-up, hoping to hide the natural blush creeping into my cheeks.

“Well...I mentioned that Grayson invited me to take the limo to The Grand with him...”

Poppy grins. “Yes, you did. And I'm _still_ wildly jealous. Nothing beats rolling up to the club in a freaking limo.”

“True. But it did mean having to turn down Kenji's offer to roll up on the back of a motorcycle.”

“What even _is_ your life?” Poppy asks with an exaggerated eye roll. “When did you get so cool?”

“Hey, I've always been cool!”

“Yeah, but not 'showing up to a club opening in a limo and/or motorcycle' cool.”

I shrug. “Guess I've stepped up my game. Don't know what to tell you.”

“So, you're definitely going with Grayson?”

“Definitely. And don't give me that look,” I warn her when she grins knowingly. “I had already said yes to Grayson when Kenji asked.”

“Still, we know that of the two of them, Grayson's really the one who sets your heart a-flutter.”

“Well...yes. I mean, Kenji's cute and fun and all, but he also makes me want to smack him upside the head sometimes. In a loving way.”

“And Grayson?”

I feel a dreamy smile spread across my lips. “..I guess...he makes me feel safe.”

“Says the one with super strength. About a guy with no powers at all.”

“Well, sure. If we ever get mugged, you and I know which one of us is gonna fight off the bad guys, but that's not the kind of safe I'm talking about. ...I can let my guard down with Grayson. It's the kind of safe you feel when you're wrapped up in a big warm blanket drinking hot chocolate while there's a blizzard outside. Like the cold can never touch you, and the warm is filling you up from the inside and the outside...”

Poppy dissolves into giggles. “Oh, girlfriend, you've got it _bad!_ ”

I turn around to stick my tongue out at her. “See if I ever wax poetic in front of you again.”

“I'm happy for you, Tahira. Really. Grayson seems like a really great guy. And the fact that he's rich and handsome doesn't hurt, either. ...Think you'll ever tell him that you're a super?”

“Woah, let's not get ahead of ourselves. We aren't even an official couple yet.”

“Right, right. No need to rush into anything.”

I go quiet as I finish applying my makeup. That is something I will have to consider if I pursue a relationship with Grayson—or anyone else for that matter. It's not long after that my intercom rings, and I buzz Grayson up to my apartment. He knocks first, pushing the door open just a crack.

“Is everyone decent in here?”

“Come on in. We're all covered.”

Grayson steps inside. He's looking handsome as usual in a turquoise shirt and a gray blazer. He casts an eye over my humble living space. “Nice place you've got here.”

“Well, it's not much, but it's home.”

Poppy waves from where she's lounging on the sofa. “Hi, Grayson!”

“Hey, Poppy! Did...you need a ride, too?”

“Hmm, tempting, but no. That's all right. I have an errand to run on the way over, anyway.”

Bless Grayson for trying to disguise his relief, but he doesn't entirely succeed. “Gotcha. Well, if you're ready to head out, Tahira...?”

“All set. Let's go.”

The three of us leave together. I lock the apartment door, and then we walk down to the sidewalk, where a white limousine idles at the curb, looking a little out of place in my modest neighborhood. We say goodbye to Poppy, and then Grayson opens the door for me, and I climb inside.

The interior is just as luxurious as I would expect, with leather seats, a bar, and even a mini-fridge.

“Not bad. Not bad at all.”

Grayson climbs in after me, pulling the door closed. “Ever been in one of these before?”

“Just for prom. But this is _much_ nicer.”

“Prom, huh? Wow, that feels like a _long_ time ago. Although I guess it's a little more recent for you.”

I laugh. “Oh, like you're such an old man. You're only three years older than me!”

He chuckles. “I know, I know. But I'm an old soul.”

“Of course you are. Honestly, you're right. It does feel like a long time ago. I can't believe I thought that turquoise dress was a good idea.”

“Is turquoise bad?” Grayson asks. “Should I be changing my shirt?”

“Well, it's not exactly easy to pull off. But you manage to make it work. I think it just suits your coloring better than it suited mine.”

“Well, that's a relief.”

I lean back into the cushy leather seat, watching the city glide by through the window. After a moment of silence, Grayson looks over at me with a smile.

“Penny for your thoughts?”

I turn to smile back at him. “I'm just thinking how nice this moment is, being here with you.”

“Funny, I was thinking something similar.”

“Were you now?”

“Very much.” I try to give Grayson a suspicious look, but then I start laughing. “What? I was.”

“Liar.”

“All right, don't believe me. Would you like a drink?”

“That would be nice.”

Grayson pulls a bottle of champagne from an ice bucket and pops the cork. He pulls two glasses from a rack near the bar, and fills them carefully.

“One for you, and one for me. Cheers.”

I raise my glass. “Cheers.” I sip my champagne, the bright, sparkling bubbles tickling my nose. “Wow, that is good.”

Grayson smiles as he takes a sip from his own glass. “...You look incredible tonight.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

I lean across the seat to brush his mouth with mine. The leather creaks as he leans closer to me. The feeling of being warm and safe within familiar shelter floods through me as the kiss deepens as he holds me firmly. I tighten my grip, reluctant to break the kiss, even as a very important question occurs to me.

“The club...is it far?”

“I think we're almost there, unfortunately.”

“I wish we could stay in here forever...”

“I know. But...maybe we'll find some time to continue this later?”

“I certainly hope so.”

The limo is slowing down to a halt, and I can see the gleaming lights of The Grand through the window.

“Well, Tahira, what do you think?”

“It looks incredible!” I breathe. “I can hardly believe it's the same place!”

The chauffer opens the door, and Grayson and I are immediately swamped by a crowd of reporters as we step out onto the curb.

“Well, if it isn't the man of the hour!” one of the reporters crows. She turns to smile into her camera. For those of you who somehow don't know, this is Grayson Prescott, Northbridge's favorite billionaire heir!”

“That's quite an introduction,” Grayson chuckles. “My friends usually stick with 'Grayson'.”

  
“And I see you've brought a beautiful friend with you tonight. Who is this?”

I find myself with a microphone in my face, and try to make my smile nonchalant. “Hi, I'm Tahira. And I'm just here to party.”

“And if I didn't have to do this interview, I'd be right there with you. I'm dying for a drink.”

“Uh...right on?”

Grayson clears his throat. “Why don't we talk about The Grand. That's why we're here, right?”

“Of course! I understand you undertook the venture with Northbridge's resident It-boy Kenji Katsaros. Is he here yet?”

“I'm here all right!” Kenji, who was apparently talking to another gaggle of reporters right beside us, turns toward us with an easy, charismatic smile. “Wouldn't miss this for the world!”

The reporter once again turns to face her camera. “Kenji Katsaros, son of Northbridge's District Attorney, Meiko Katsaros. Speaking of which, will the DA be putting in an appearance tonight? To show some support for her only child?”

Kenji shifts slightly, the only outward sign he gives of any discomfort. “Can't really be sure. I mean, she is the DA. She's got lots of important work to do.”

“At this time of night, though?”

He shrugs, his jaw muscle tight beneath his skin. “You'll have to ask her.”

“Maybe we could shift our focus back to our plans for The Grand?” Like Kenji, Grayson maintains his composure, but I can sense his impatience with the direction of the reporter's questions. “Personally, I couldn't be more excited to bring this legendary establishment back to Bayside. My hope is that we can all work together to build a brighter future for this neighborhood, without sacrificing everything that makes it so special.”

The reporter does not directly answer Grayson's comment. Something else has drawn her attention.

“Speaking of famous parents, look who just arrived!”

I follow the reporter's gaze to where Silas Prescott is stepping out of a sleek black car parked at the curb. He smiles as the reporters surge toward him, leaving Kenji and Grayson behind. I find Grayson's hand and give it a gentle squeeze.

“Am I late?”

“Mr. Prescott,” one of the reporters shouts. “How do you feel about your son going into the nightclub business?”

“Unbelievably proud. And really, this is only the beginning of our plans for the Bayside neighborhood.”

“Oh? What do you mean?”

“I mean that Prescott Industries is very interested in revitalizing this neighborhood. It's been neglected for far too long if you ask me. I've been speaking to a few local real estate developers about what steps we can take to change that.”

Grayson's grip on my hand tightens. I don't blame him for his anger, especially as the reporter turns back to the camera with a bright smile and remarks about 'exciting news from Silas Prescott himself.' After a moment, Grayson releases my hand and storms angrily into the club. Kenji shoots me a worried look as we follow him inside. I sigh. This is not exactly the best way to begin the evening.

On the plus side, the inside of the club looks as incredible as the outside. Thumping music pours over me as I enter. Swirling, colored lights illuminate the dance floor from overhead as people mingle around a crowded, lively bar. A server offers me a flute of champagne. I cast my eyes around for Grayson—or Dax, or Poppy, but the music fades out before I find anyone. I turn to find Kenji climbing up on stage with a drink in hand. He raises a hand, and the crowd hushes.

“Ladies and gentlemen, before tonight, Northbridge was a city like any other. A city crying out for a hero.” I bite back a groan, but I don't quite manage to not roll my eyes as he continues, “Someone to stand guard against the forces of 'staying in' and 'having a quiet night with friends'. Someone with the strength to stare Netflix in the face and say, 'Not tonight, old friend'. And so I have answered the call, teaming up with the one and only Grayson Prescott, of course!”

The crowd applauds as Grayson climbs onto the stage beside Kenji to clap him on the shoulder. “You're a great sidekick, Kenji!”

“Hey, now! We'll settle who the sidekick is later!” The crowd laughs good-naturedly as Kenji raises his glass. “That said, I'd like to thank you all for joining our course as we launch this venue, a shining beacon of hope for the city we love. A toast...to The Grand!”

The crowd cheers and the music starts back up again. Catching my eye in the crowd, Kenji descends the stage to rejoin me.

“Congratulations, Kenji. This place looks amazing! You've really outdone yourself. Not that I've seen any of your other work.”

“Well, I'm glad you like it.”

I grin mischievously. “Does that mean you were seeking my approval?”

“Hey, now! I wouldn't go that far. But anyway, I gotta go play the host. You should check out the bar.”

He disappears into the crowd. I sigh a little, finishing the champagne in my hand. I seem to have misplaced my Grayson. But I guess the bar is as good a place as any to park myself for a few minutes to see if he wanders over.

I don't find Grayson immediately at the bar, but I do find Dax and Hazel.

“Tahira!” Dax calls. “We saved you a seat!”

I grin, coming to sit beside them. “How are you liking The Grand?”

“It's crowded, loud, and a sensory overload,” Hazel remarks. “And yet, I'm having a ton of fun!”

“Me too!” Dax agrees. “It defies all logic!”

Hazel's eyes widen suddenly, and I realize that Poppy has come up behind me.

“Hey, guys!”

“Oh...hey, Poppy...” Hazel stammers. Polite smiles pass between us, and conversation lulls into a loaded silence. Dax clears his throat.

“Tahira, why don't you start us off with a conversation topic?”

Oh, way to put me on the spot, Dax. “Uhhhh...let's talk about Dragonness!” Well, I've chosen the topic now, no backing out of it. “Hero? Menace? Role model? What do you think?”

“I guess, as a scientist,” Hazel begins, “I'm naturally curious. What causes Dragonness' abilities? Who's underneath the mask, and is she--”

Dax interrupts with forced, nervous laughter. “That's a very strange topic, Tahira!”

“Hey, you asked me to come up with something!”

“We could always ask Dax about his preferred soldering iron,” Poppy snickers. “That will get him talking for hours.”

Hazel clearly doesn't miss the look that passes between Dax and Poppy. “...I should go and let you all catch up.”

“No, don't!” Poppy says quickly. “I've just ordered a round of drinks for all of us. You should stay.”

Hazel blinks in surprise, sitting back down. “Oh...thanks, Poppy. That's...really cool of you.”

Dax smiles. “Yeah. It is.”

“Don't mention it. Besides, if Dax has enough drinks, you might hear the story of his sixth grade talent show.”

“Oh my god, was that during his ventriloquist phase? I've been trying to get that story out of him for days!”

“Trust me, it's gold. The bad jokes alone make it worth the wait.”

“Heh...” Dax laughs nervously. “I suddenly feel very outnumbered.”

A few drinks in, and any lingering tension has completely evaporated. But after a couple rounds, Hazel checks her phone, and her expression falls.

“Oh...I'm sorry, guys. I gotta run. I've got some lab results that just came in that need to be reviewed ASAP.”

“Duty calls,” I say. “I can relate. Do you have a ride? You're a few drinks in, you probably shouldn't be driving.”

“I'll summon an Uber or something. Promise.”

We say our goodbyes to Hazel, and that's when I finally catch sight of Grayson, sitting at the other end of the bar with Kenji.

“Oh! It's Grayson! 'Scuse me a moment, I lost track of him when we got here.”

I leave Poppy and Dax on their own and scoot down to the end of the bar, As I approach, I notice their grim expressions.

“Hey, fellas,” I say, placing a comforting hand on Grayson's back. “You guys all right? You look...more upset than I would expect you to be at the successful opening of your nightclub.”

Grayson sighs heavily. “I just...I can't believe my father. Slipping in with some ulterior motive. This project was meant to bring jobs and business to the locals, not bulldoze and replace them! He's always hovering over me, like I need supervision...”

“It's the opposite with my mom,” Kenji mutters. “She can't even be bothered to make an appearance. It's like she's convinced it's only a matter of time before I fail.”

“Now _that_ I can relate to,” Grayson says glumly.

“Guys...forget about your parents. For now, at least. This is your night! And if your parents can't see all the good that you're doing, then screw 'em!”

Kenji chuckles. “That's a pep talk I can get behind.”

But Grayson remains melancholy. “It's...not as simple as that for me.”

“How about you dance with me? Is that simple enough?”

Finally, Grayson does smile. “So simple that I couldn't possibly resist. In fact, I'll bet a dance with you is exactly what I need.”

Grayson offers me an arm, and we join the masses on the dance floor just as the music shifts to a spirited, sensual melody. I drape my arms around his neck, and he laces his fingers at the small of my back. He pulls me close and we sway together in time with the music. After a moment, I place my head on his shoulder.

“How is it that you swoop in to the rescue exactly when I need you?”

“Good timing, I guess?”

“Whatever it is, I'm grateful.”

I open my eyes, frowning as I notice Dax approaching, squeezing awkwardly through the dancing crowd.

“Hey, Grayson, may I, uh...cut in?”

Grayson blinks, looking confused but quite untroubled compared to a few moments ago. “Sure. I'll catch up with you guys later.”

Dax watches Grayson go, then turns to me with a worried expression. “We've got trouble!”

“What's wrong?”

“There's an attack in progress at the DA's office. News reports of the Man on Fire. It's gotta be Caleb.”

“...Oh, god...Kenji's mom! Does he know about this?”

“He left about ten seconds ago.”

“Then I've got to go, too.”

* * *

Suited up, I join up with Talos outside the DA's office to find the entire street a blazing inferno.

“We have to find my mother!” Talos yells over the roar of the flames. “Before it's—wait! Look over there!”

Kenji points to two figures down the road, obscured in a haze of fire and smoke. I rush over to and I can make out a woman on the ground, scrambling away from a menacing, fiery assailant.

“You...you can't do this!” Meiko gasps, her voice strangled. “The police are mobilizing as we speak!”

“Then let them come!” Caleb laughs. “They're terrified of me! And rightly so. There's nothing that you or your jackbooted cronies in blue can do to stop me! Now say goodnight!”

“ _No!_ ” Talos snarls, startling Caleb enough to distract him for a moment.

“You let her go, Caleb!” I order, moving to stand beside Talos.

“You two?” Caleb scoffs. “How many times do I have to beat you down?”

“This isn't gonna be like last time,” Talos declares coldly.

Caleb snarls wordlessly, hurling a volley of fireballs at us. With a roar, Talos charges forward. I keep close behind Talos, sheltered from the blasts by his bronze body.

“You still with me, Dragonness?”

“Right behind you!” I assure him. We push forward together, closing the distance between us and Caleb. “Okay, let's go on the offensive! Grab my hand!”

It doesn't take Talos long to figure out what I have in mind. He gives me a nod and clasps my palm. I put my full strength into my swing, hefting the full weight of Talos's body and hurling him through the air toward Caleb. Talos brings his fist forward and slams into Caleb like a bronze missile. The impact sends Caleb falling backward, skidding across the ground. I rush to help Talos back up, but he's already on his feet, having spotted Meiko still crumpled on the pavement.

“We gotta get the DA outta here! Can you handle Caleb while I grab her?”

“I'm on it!”

Talos launches into a low sprint, then drops to his knees, sliding across the asphalt toward his mother, hand sparking against the pavement. In one smooth motion, he scoops her into his arms.

“You! Unhand me!” Meiko shouts angrily.

“I'm here to help!” Talos protests. “I'll get you to safety!”

“The hell you will!” Caleb snarls, struggling to his feet. Talos sprints off with his mother in his arms, Caleb taking off in pursuit.

“Don't you dare turn your back on me!” I growl, lunging forward to grab Caleb from behind. Before he can react, I spin on my heels and heft him off his feet, flinging him into the air. He hits the sidewalk across the street with a thud, rolling across the concrete. The flames still dance over his skin. His face is a twisted mask of rage as he climbs to his feet.

“Time to end this!” he howls. He marches purposefully toward me, his open palms billowing flame. I plant my feet, but abruptly he stops, wincing in pain and dropping to one knee.

“Well, well, well. Seems that beating took more of a toll on you than you expected.” Sure enough, the flames on Caleb's body start to sputter and weaken, snuffing into nothing but smoke.

“No, no, no!” Caleb growl. “This...can't be happening!”

“It's over, Caleb! Surrender!”

“No way! I'm not...done...” With a wild cry, he summons the flames to his skin again. “I'm just getting started!”

The flames race up his left arm, across his shoulders, and down his right, gathering into a slim, blue-hot tongue hissing in his right palm like a butane torch. His eyes flicker madly, his teeth bared in a feral grin.

“Time to die, Dragonness!”

Caleb lunges at me with frightening speed. I move to escape even as I realize I'm not moving quickly enough. I close my eyes, bracing myself, but the blow never comes. I open my eyes to Talos' bronze back, a shining human shield between me and Caleb.

“If you want to get to Dragonness, you'll have to go...through...me...”

His body shudders. I find my eyes drawn downward—to where the white-hot tip of Caleb's torch flame is sprouting from Talos' back. I hear the scream before I realize that I'm the one screaming.

_“NO!”_

“Looks like I found your melting point, _Talos!”_ Caleb taunts. He retracts the flame and Talos slumps to the pavement, molten bronze spilling from his wounds. Fury burns through my veins, hotter than anything Caleb can summon. Rage blinds me, consumes me. Every ounce of strength I have left goes into the punch that connects with Caleb's chest. The impact sounds with a crunch. Caleb flies backward, slamming into the building behind him with enough force to leave an impression in the brick. His flames sputter out again as he slumps groaning to the asphalt. I drop to my knees beside Talos, turning him over gently.

“Ke—Talos? Come on, Talos, stay with me!” I place a hand on his chest, but all I feel is cold, motionless metal. Is this the way he's supposed to feel in this form? Does he have a bronze heart? Does that heart beat? The tapping of heels on concrete signals Meiko's approach.

“I...saw him sacrifice himself,” she says softly, sounding dazed. “I was...wrong about him. I...may have been wrong about a lot of things...”

She's Kenji's mom. She's been attacked. Protecting her was the whole reason we were fighting Caleb. I shouldn't be angry at her. But I am.

“I can only hope he pulls through so he can hear you say that,” I say coldly. “You want to help, you can go call an ambulance.”

Meiko turns and walks away, leaving me in an eerie silence broken only by the crackle of flames around me. Then, as sirens start to wail in the distance, I hear the faintest cough.

“H-hey...” Talos croaks. “Hey there...hero...”

“Kenji! You're alive!”

“Don't...count me out yet...” But his bronze face is twisted with pain. I grip his hand.

“Just hang on. You're gonna be okay.”

“Is...is that an ambulance? I can't go to the hospital. They'll find out who I am...”

“Shhh. I know. Don't worry, that was just to buy us some time. You and I are getting out of here.” I gather him up in my arms and stand. “Dax will figure something out, I promise. Everything will be fine.”

I glance over to where Caleb is slumped against the brick wall, but he's already vanished. But that's a concern for later. I pull my wounded comrade closer as I take off into the night sky. ...Everything will be fine...

_Elsewhere..._

_At Prescott Industries, Silas sits at his desk, leafing disinterestedly through paper work. It seems like a blessing when he's interrupted by a knock at the door._

_“Come in.”_

_Hazel enters his office, another sheaf of papers in hand. “Sir? I got back the expedited results of the blood tests you wanted.”_

_“And?”_

_“Sample 1 reacts to the Prism Gate's energy, taking on strange, rapid mutations.”_

_“Yes, yes. As expected. And the second sample?”_

_“No initial reaction. So far it seems that some people's genetics just don't react to the Prism. But...” Hazel produces a small glass vial filled with a faintly glowing pink liquid. “This is the newest iteration of the serum we've been working on. Adding this to Sample 2, the non-reactive blood, caused an almost immediate prismatic mutation.”_

_“So the serum works.”_

_“Well, it's impossible to say what this serum will do if introduced into an organism's body. There could be dangerous side effects if--”_

_“That will be all, Hazel. Why don't you leave the serum with me, and take the rest of the night off?”_

_“Sir...May I ask...whose blood samples these are? I can't help but think--”_

_“That will be all, Hazel,” Silas says firmly. When Hazel startles, he smiles. “You've done great work here. Why don't you go home and get some rest? In fact, take tomorrow off. You've earned it. I insist.”_

_Hazel knows better than to argue. “...Yes, sir.”_

_She places the serum on the polished marble surface of the desk and leaves. Once the door closes, Silas opens his desk drawer, pulling out a syringe and pushes the needle into the bottle's rubbery seal. He pulls the plunger out, loading the syringe._

_“To a newer, better world,” he murmurs, pulling the needle out of the bottle. He rolls up his sleeve and jams the needle into his forearm, pushing the plunger with purpose. The serum hits his blood and makes it burn, liquid fire flowing through him astonishingly quickly. He doubles over in agony, gripping the edge of the desk. He can't hold back a scream as he crumples to the floor. But then the pain ebbs away into nothing. Silas climbs carefully to his feet, gazing in wonder at his desk, where the grip of his hand has crushed the solid marble into powder._

_“...Newer and better indeed.”_


	10. Recovery

Back at the clocktower, Kenji lies on the couch, still in his bronze form, wincing as Dax looks over his injury. I hover anxiously nearby, pacing behind the couch.

“Caleb really did a number on him with that jet of flame,” Dax remarks grimly. “The good news is, he'll live.”

I exhale, my breath shaky. “Thank god.”

“...Assuming, of course, that I can find a way to get this hole closed up.”

“'Assuming'?” Poppy repeats skeptically.

“How is that _good_ news?” Kenji demands, raising his head and shoulders, only to sink back with a groan.

“Hey, don't get worked up!” Dax scolds. “You'll only make matters worse!”

“So are you saying you don't know how to help him?” I ask, feeling my heart sink.

“Look, it's complicated stuff. His body's in survival mode, so he's stuck in bronze form until his condition stabilizes. Not sure if we're patching up a human here, or a hunk of metal.”

“I'm human!” Kenji protests. “Can't you just stitch me up or something?”

“Right now, you're more metal than man. Conventional medicine has kinda gone out the window.”

Poppy frowns thoughtfully. “Could Hazel be of any help? Isn't biology her expertise?”

“You know...she could. Maybe...but we can't just tell her that Tahira and Kenji are both superheroes...”

“You don't think we can trust her with this?” I ask.

“I for one would like to keep the Secret Identity Club as exclusive as possible,” Kenji says. “It makes operating easier. Surviving, too.”

“Exactly,” Dax agrees. “Besides, it's safer for Hazel if she doesn't know. We don't want to put her at risk.”

“So...what _do_ we tell her?”

The ensuing silence is interrupted by the buzz of my phone in my pocket. I dig it out and read a text from Grayson: _People are talking about how Kenji disappeared from The Grand's opening last night. I'm making a statement to the press about it this afternoon. I could use some backup if you're available._

I sigh. “Guys, Grayson needs my help. Will you be all right here without me?”

“Sure. I need to talk to Hazel before we can proceed anyway.”

Kenji offers me a weak, bronze-tinted smile. “I'll try not to die while you're gone.” His smile falters slightly. “...Even if talking still hurts.”

I cover his hand with mine to give it a quick squeeze. “Poppy, you make sure he doesn't talk too much.”

Poppy throws me a salute. “On it.”

I take off from the clocktower's balcony, heading back to my apartment to shower and change. It wouldn't be wise of me to appear on live TV looking—and probably smelling—like I've just gone five rounds with a supervillain. Even if I do take off the supersuit.

About forty minutes later, I step out of the shower smelling like vanilla body wash and tropical passion fruit shampoo, and search for something to wear. I settle on a pair of black slacks and lavender blouse under a black jacket. Simple and professional, but flattering. I apply my makeup as quickly as I can. This is one day I am not willing to be late anywhere.

* * *

Grayson is waiting for me outside when I arrive at Prescott Industries. His shoulders sag with relief when he sees me.

“Tahira, you made it!”

“Of course I did. When have I ever let you down?”

“Good point. If I didn't know any better, I'd think you were starting to like being my hero.”

“Well, maybe I am.”

“And you've dressed for the occasion, too. Very stylish. Are you nervous?”

“A little,” I confess. He sighs.

“Yeah, me too. I'm not concerned about their questions regarding Kenji leaving early last night, but if they ask about my dad's plan for Bayside...”

“Well...let's hope they don't do that.”

“Yeah, but somehow that doesn't seem likely. ...What do you think I should say if it does come up? I mean, if I come out in opposition to my dad's agenda, I have no idea how he'd respond.”

I push my hands into my pockets. “The business woman in me says you should play it safe. But I don't think you're looking for advice from the business woman in me.”

He blushes. “...I'd...rather get the advice of...someone I care about a lot.”

“Then speak from the heart. I mean, it's not like your dad even considered how you'd feel when he gave his interview last night. Why should you worry about how he'd respond?”

“You know what, Tahira? You're right.” He squares his shoulders, his jaw set with determination. “I hope they _do_ ask me about my vision for Bayside. Because I'm going to tell the truth, no matter what my dad has to say about it.”

I grin. “That's the spirit.”

We head inside and cross the lobby toward the press room. I've only been in there once, and it was empty at the time. Entering when it's full of reporters and cameras is definitely different. I've been getting a lot of cameras and microphones shoved in my face lately, but I've also usually been wearing a mask. Still...I'm not the center of attention this time. I'm just here to support Grayson.

Marjorie is already waiting by the podium when we enter and climb on the stage. Seeing us, she approaches the mic and clears her throat.

“Mr. Prescott will now be answering questions regarding the opening of The Grand last night.” She narrows her eyes at the audience. “And nothing else. So don't even _try_ asking.”

The reporters murmur amongst themselves as Grayson hurries to take the podium, shooing Marjorie off the mic.

“Thank you, Marjorie. My assistant Tahira and I can take it from here.” He looks out at the reporters. “Thank you all for being here. We'll be happy to take your questions.”

“Why did Mr. Katsaros abandon the opening of your club last night?” one of the reporters calls. “Have you had a professional falling out?”

“Are you single?” I hear another voice shout.

“Uh...well, to address the first question, as far as Kenji Katsaros is concerned, he had a pressing personal matter to attend to. You may have heard, his mother, DA Meiko Katsaros was attacked by the Man on Fire last night.”

“Then why did no one see him with her last night?”

The question makes Grayson freeze, and I quickly step up to the microphone. “He had trouble getting to the scene. We all know how bad Northbridge traffic can get, and when the roads are closed due to superhuman fire attacks, well, things get complicated.”

“I...suppose I didn't think of that,” the reporter admits.

“Any further questions? ...Not pertaining to Mr. Prescott's relationship status?”

“I have a question!” another reporter calls. “Last night you and your father seemed to present wildly different visions for the future of Bayside. Would you care to clarify your position?”

Grayson reclaims the mic. “I was hoping you'd ask about that, actually. Here's what I have to say on that score: I can't endorse my father's comments regarding Bayside. He had discussed his plans with me earlier, and I made it very clear that I wasn't on board.”

Murmurs of surprise ripple through the gathered reporters. Marjorie's face has gone completely white, but I can feel a proud grin pulling at the corners of my mouth, and I'm powerless to stop it.

“Do you mean to say that you won't support your father's development ambitions for Bayside?”

“That's correct. The remarks he made last night do not reflect me or my business. Now if you'll excuse me, I have nothing more to say on the subject.”

With that, he turns and strides purposefully back toward the lobby, the reporters shouting questions after him. “But what about your father? What will he say? Grayson, wait!”

Marjorie and I hurry to catch up with Grayson.

“Grayson what were you _thinking?!”_ Marjorie hisses. “Your father will be furious!”

“Too bad,” Grayson replies coldly. “He shouldn't have given that interview last night. He shouldn't even have been there.”

Marjorie sputters helplessly, turning to me. “Tahira, talk some sense into him, will you?!”

But I'm grinning like a maniac. “Grayson, I am so proud of you! That was awesome!”

“Thank you, Tahira.”

“Have you both gone mad or what?! Need I remind you that Silas Prescott is our boss?!”

“Then he can fire me!” Grayson snaps. “But I won't let Tahira, or you, or anyone take the fall for this. This was my decision.”

Marjorie throws up her hands in defeat. “I can't deal with this. I need to get to work. I suddenly have a ton of fires to put out. The tabloids are going to have a field day with this.” Shooting a resentful glare at Grayson, Marjorie stalks away, her heels clicking on the polished floor of the lobby.

“So, how did that feel?” I ask when she's out of earshot.

“Honestly? Pretty great. Thanks for telling me to do that.”

“I'm just glad I was there to witness it. ...I'm sorry I can't stick around longer. I've got something else to take care of. But I'll see you on Monday?”

“Provided Dad doesn't actually fire me? Yeah. See you Monday.”

* * *

The press conference was a good distraction for a little while, and I'm glad I was there to support Grayson, but I haven't forgotten about my wounded friend. I return to the clocktower to find Kenji still on the couch, and Poppy at the computer. She smiles as I enter. Kenji gives me a half-hearted wave.

“Tahira! Just in time!”

“Hey, guys. What'd I miss? Where's Dax?”

“Oh, I'm so glad you asked! Computer, bring up visuals from Dax's button-cam.”

A soothing automated voice sounds from the upgraded tech system, “Acknowledged. Poppy. Opening video feed from Agent Eagle Eye.”

A high-definition video pops up on one of the largest monitors, showing the view from a table at a local coffee shop.

 _“Clocktower, this is Eagle Eye,”_ Dax murmurs into his button-cam. _“I've secured a table at Starbeans Coffee. Hazel should be here any minute.”_

I turn to Poppy, raising an eyebrow. “'Eagle Eye'?”

“Dax insisted on choosing his codename.”

Hazel enters the frame and takes a seat across from Dax with a mug of coffee, smiling. _“Hey, Dax. I admit I was kinda surprised to get your call. What's up?”_

“Dax, open with some small talk,” I tell him. “Ease into the conversation.”

_“Oh...not much...how about this weather, huh?”_

Hazel blinks. _“...What about it?”_

_“Well...pretty mild, right? Not too hot...not too cold...exceptionally normal. Crazy, right?”_

_“Pretty oxymoronic, but...I guess so?”_

Poppy audibly slaps her palm to her forehead. “This is not Dax's forte...”

“Okay, Dax, maybe you should just get to the question.”

Dax clears his throat. _“So, there are a lot of superhumans coming out of the woodwork...”_

_“Yeah, I noticed.”_

_“And some of them can change their bodies into inorganic materials, like...”_

_“Like the guy who changes into rock?”_

_“Uh, yeah. Like him. But I was wondering how healing works for him in that state.”_

Hazel's eyes light up. _“Oh! Fascinating question!”_

_“If hypothetically, he had a major injury with significant rock 'tissue' loss...could he be repaired by molecularly bonding more...rock material to his body?”_

Hazel laughs, barely keeping in a mouthful of coffee long enough to swallow. _“Good one, Dax. 'Bond more rock material'...if you wanted to kill him, maybe.”_

_“Wait, what do you mean?! Kill him how?!”_

Hazel raises an eyebrow. _“You seem very invested in this.”_

“Too much of a reaction there, Dax!” Poppy hisses. “She's suspecting something!”

“Dax, tell Hazel you're a superhero fanboy!”

_“Yeah, I just...I'm such a fan of these superhumans. I wanna learn all I can about them. Their strengths, their weaknesses, their...stats?”_

Hazel relaxes, nodding. _“Oh, yeah. I totally agree. I'm a scientist, after all. And superhumans pique my curiosity.”_

_“So, what do you think about the healing problem?”_

_“Ahh, right. You can't just add any old stone to his body. This is all theoretical, but...the stone matter you add would have to be infused with Prism energy. Otherwise it wouldn't change with him as he transforms. You can imagine how that could be a problem.”_

_“So you're saying it wouldn't be possible without the Prism Gate...hypothetically speaking of course?”_

_“Well, maybe not...”_ Hazel hesitates a moment, then leans in closer. _“I'm not really supposed to say anything, but...my team is working on a serum that's irradiated with Prism energy. Which, used correctly, can impart that energy to other organisms or substances. A sort of...liquid prism.”_

_“That...that's incredible! That might be exactly what he...what he would need!”_

Hazel smiles proudly. _“Prescott has been keeping it very hush hush, though. All of our research and samples are stored in a secure warehouse in the Bayside District. But, uh, don't tell anyone that! And don't tell anyone I told you!”_

“We gotta find that warehouse,” Poppy murmurs. “That serum could be the key to healing Kenji.”

“I bet we could track it down with Dax's equipment.”

“Yes! Mission accomplished, Eagle Eye! Rendezvous back at HQ!”

_“Thanks so much, Hazel. But I gotta go!”_

_“So soon? Is something wrong?”_

I can't see Dax's face, but his silence tells me that he probably looks like a deer in headlights. “Dax, tell Hazel that I need you!”

_“Yeah, Tahira needs me! You know...typical needy, clingy Tahira! Always begging me for help!”_

Hazel smiles. _“You're a very good friend. I won't keep you.”_

“'Needy'?” I echo. “'Clingy'?!”

“I guess no good deed goes unpunished,” Poppy snickers.

* * *

It takes a few hours, but Dax and Poppy manage to track down a possible address for the warehouse Hazel mentioned. I immediately set off to find it. After soaring halfway across Northbridge, I float through an open skylight and find myself in a deathly quiet storage facility.

“I'm here,” I murmur to Dax and Poppy.

_“This looks like the place. If Hazel and her team are storing their materials in the Bayside District, this is the most likely location.”_

_“Anything you can find on the serum would be helpful. A sample, some notes, anything...”_

A voice from around the corner cuts off whatever reply was on my lips. I flatten myself against a nearby wall, concealing myself in the shadows and hide as a hooded man approaches, talking into a phone.

“Yup. The goods were right where you said they'd be. Nah, no one saw us. You hired professionals, remember?” He chuckles. “Hell, yeah. Once this Liquid Prism hits the streets, it's gonna be _wild_. We took it all. Enough for an army. It's being loaded up in the truck as we speak.”

“Guys, it looks like some criminals beat me here. And they're stealing the serum.”

 _“You've got to stop them!”_ Poppy hisses.

“On it.” I emerge from the shadows, placing myself in front of the thieves. “That doesn't belong to you.”

The hooded hoodlum yelps, dropping his phone. “Hold up...you're Dragonness!” For a moment, he stands frozen. Then he turns and sprints away.

“Get back here!” I push away from the ground, taking flight after the criminal. Dropping down, I corner him. As I close in, he reaches for his waist.

“Stay the hell away from me, freak!” He draws a pistol, leveling it at my chest. I clasp the gun in my palm and squeeze. Metal creaks as I crumple the weapon in my hand like paper. The hoodlum recoils, his eyes widening as I toss the useless lump of metal aside.

“Surrender!” I snarl.

“I don't have time for this! I'm outta here!”

The man turns and runs toward a loading bay, where an idling van awaits, its driver yelling from the front seat. The hoodlum jumps into the passenger seat, and the driver steps on the gas. I fly toward the warehouse doors to block their escape. The van speeds toward me with no sign of stopping. Time to do what I do best. I grit my teeth, slamming my hands down on the hood as the van makes contact. The engine revs, straining against me, but I dig in my heels. The wheels skid and the hood crumples under my strength. With one final push, I heave it to the side, sending it into a wall with a crunch. The rear doors open up, revealing scattered stacks of metal cases. The hoodlum stumbles out of the van, badly bruised and battered, and pops open one of the boxes, pulling out a syringe. Rolling up his sleeve, he plunges the needle into his forearm. The scream of agony that follows is enough to make me falter, but in a moment, he straightens, grinning.

“That's it...it's working!”

 _“Ohhhh, this could be bad.”_ Dax says weakly. “ _Very, very bad...”_

The hoodlum charges at me with a roar. I drive my fist at him, but he catches it, squeezing it in a grip strong enough to match my own. The moment I react with shock is the moment he manages to fling me aside like a ragdoll. I crash against the wall and crumple to the cold floor, properly winded.

“What's the matter, Dragonness? Weren't expecting a fair fight?!” He grabs hold of boxes, crates, debris...anything he can get his hands on and hurls it at me. I barely manage to shield myself from blow after blow.

 _“You have to end this fight now!”_ Poppy cries. _“You can't keep this up forever!”_

The hoodlum grasps a six-foot shipping crate and hoists it menacingly over his head. “Square up, hero! When I'm done with you, everyone's gonna know my name!”

I set my jaw and steel myself, marching toward him. He keeps his eyes trained on mine, and isn't prepared when I suddenly take flight and smash my fist into the crate, turning it to splinters. The thief was clearly not expecting that. He yelps, backpedaling as I stalk toward him. He grabs for another heavy crate, but this one doesn't budge.

“No...what's happening?!”

 _“The serum's effects must be wearing off!”_ Poppy exclaims.

Well and truly panicked now, the thief takes off, scrambling back into the battered van. I charge for the van, but the driver revs the engine. It sputters, but the van picks up speed and skids off into the night, its rear doors still hanging open. A few vials roll across the floor of the van and fly out the back.

“The serum!” I dive after the scattered vials, soaring toward the ground and catching one precious sample before it hits the ground. “I got one!”

 _“Not a moment too soon,”_ Dax says grimly. _“You'd better get back here quick. Kenji's not looking so good...”_

* * *

I would expect a full human in Kenji's condition to look deathly pale, and to be sweating cold bullets. Kenji as Talos looks as golden-bronze as ever, and I don't know if he's capable of sweating in this form, but somehow, I can still tell immediately that he's gotten worse. There's just something about his sluggish movements, the effort it takes the turn his gaze toward me.

Dax has already melted down a bronze ingot when I return to the clocktower with the vial of liquid prism, and immediately sets to work synthesizing the serum with the molten metal. I go to kneel beside Kenji, taking his hand.

“Stay with me, Kenji,” I murmur. “Hold on just a little longer. We got what we need. You're gonna be okay.”

“Well, I...don't plan on dying encased...in metal. ...Too weird.”

“Way too weird,” I agree.

“Okay, here goes nothing...” Dax carries over what looks like a fondue pot of viscous, metallic solution, and something that looks like a trowel. “Kenji...I'll be honest, I have no idea if this is gonna hurt.”

I feel Kenji's grip on my hand tighten, but he relaxes as Dax uses the trowel to apply the solution to the wound like a poultice. The solution gleams softly pink before absorbing into his torso.

“It...actually feels kinda nice. Soothing.”

“I think it worked! Kenji, try turning back to normal.”

“Okay...” Kenji closes his eyes. A ripple of energy passes over his body as he returns to human form. Dax leans in to examine the wound, but only finds smooth human flesh.

“No scar or anything!” I observe delightedly.

“Incredible!” Poppy breathes.

“How do you feel, Kenji?”

“Great, actually. But...how?”

“Seems once I combined the bronze with the serum, your body accepted it as part of you. Sort of like giving someone a skin graft, or reattaching someone's fingers.”

I shudder. “Thanks for that mental image, Dax.”

“Does this mean that you can just add metal to my body? 'Cause I wouldn't mind trying out a few...upgrades.”

“Uhhh...you're gonna have to find someone else for that.”

“Relax, I was kidding.”

“That said, this does raise some interesting questions.”

“Like what?” Poppy wonders.

“It's just...I never really made the connection that Kenji's physical form was so malleable, you know? I wonder...” Dax scratches his chin absentmindedly, staring out through the clock face at the night sky.

“What do you wonder, Wonder Dax?” I ask. The others turn to me with raised eyebrows. “...What? Am I the only one whose teachers showed Wonder Cat videos in second grade?”

Dax shakes his head absently. “Never mind. It was nothing. We've got more important things to deal with.”

Kenji's phone buzzes on the coffee table, and he picks it up, his face falling when he reads the screen. “You could say that again. My mom's freaking out. I guess she heard about me 'bailing' on the club opening. And she's not happy that I didn't take her home from the hospital today.”

“Uh oh. That's not good.”

“It gets worse. She wants to meet me tonight. For dinner and 'a talk'.”

“Yikes,” Poppy says with a wince. “Better get some more of that serum ready, Dax. I think Meiko's gonna finish what Caleb started.”

Kenji swallows hard. “You had my back last night, Tahira. And you saved my life today. Again.” He smiles feebly at me. “Care to rescue me a third time, hero?”

“You mean you want a little back-up at dinner? Say no more. This is clearly a situation where supers on the same side need to stick together. Let's just...change first, okay. Or rather, I'll change and you...” I nod at his bare chest, “...should put some clothes on.”

“Right. Clothes. Good call.”

* * *

At the restaurant, the host leads us to a table in the back, where Meiko Katsaros already sits perusing the menu.

“Here goes nothing,” Kenji murmurs as we approach.

“You got this,” I whisper back.

Meiko says nothing as we take our seats, her face hidden behind the large menu. After a moment of awkward silence, Kenji clears his throat. “So...what looks good?”

Meiko flicks her menu closed with a snap like it's an old-fashioned fan, and lays it on the table, her lips tight.

“Let me tell you what _doesn't_ look good. My only son, dropping out of law school to pursue a career in...well, I don't know what you'd call it. Debauchery?”

“Mom...”

“Only to give _that_ up within a matter of days!”

“Mrs. Katsaros, it wasn't like that!” I protest. “He didn't--”

“ _Meanwhile,”_ Meiko continues, firmly cutting me off, “I'm sitting in the hospital after a superhuman madman nearly incinerated me, and I have to learn about your latest screw-up on the evening news?! I'm fine, by the way, not that you care. You should've seen the look on the nurse's face when I told her no one would be coming to pick me up! I've never been more humiliated in my life!”

I shift uncomfortably in my seat. Some of the other diners are starting to take notice of Meiko's heated diatribe.

“I don't know why you insist on behaving this way, Kenji! It's like you're simply allergic to responsibility or--”

“Look, Mom, I'm sorry! Okay?! I don't know what else I can say. Especially since you don't seem particularly interested in listening to me!”

Meiko shuts her eyes and takes a deep breath, rubbing her temples distractedly. “Look, Kenji, I just...I don't know what to do with you! I don't know how to talk to you about this behavior and I shouldn't have to! You should know better!”

“But--”

“Just forget it. I need to make a call.”

“...Fine.”

As Meiko gets up from the table, she glances in my direction as though noticing me for the first time. “...Why are _you_ here? No, forget it. I don't really care.” She stalks away, leaving an awkward silence in her wake.

“That...didn't go very well,” I mutter.

“No, it did not,” Kenji agrees miserably. “I just...I don't know what I can possibly say to her! If I could tell her the truth...that I was there for her...that I left the club to save her...”

“Are you so determined not to?”

“It would only put her in danger.”

“She's already in danger,” I point out. “But...you're right. I'm sorry. No one said this was going to be easy.”

“No one said it'd destroy my relationship with my mother, either. What should I say? Do I try to come up with some excuse or just...accept responsibility for something I didn't do?”

“...Accept responsibility,” I reply softly, hating my answer.

“Even though I didn't do anything wrong?”

“Even though you didn't do anything wrong. It's unfair. I'd even call it unjust. But...it's part of what we signed up for when we decided to make use of what we were given. Making sacrifices for the people we love. Even when those sacrifices aren't particularly glamorous.”

“...When did you get so wise?”

I manage a wry smile. “I've always been wise. You just never asked.”

A few minutes later, Meiko returns to the table, slipping her phone back into her purse. “Okay. Where were we?”

Kenji takes a breath, steeling himself. “Look, Mom, before you say anything else, I just wanted to apologize. I know I've let you down a lot this year. Dropping out of school, and now...all of this...and I'm sorry. You have every right to be mad at me. But all I can do is...say sorry and try to be better.”

For a moment, Meiko looks like she's about to argue. But then she hesitates, frowning. “I...I'm sorry, too. I know I've been hard on you. Maybe I've asked too much now and then. To be honest...I'm not even really that upset about you dropping out of law school.”

“You...you're not?”

“No. It just hurt me that you didn't tell me about it first. Or come to me for advice, or _anything._ We used to actually talk about things, Kenji. Now I feel like all we do is argue. I don't want it to be that way.”

“...I don't either.”

“Then...maybe let's both do better from now on. Okay?”

Kenji smiles, a real genuine smile. “Okay.”

Meiko smiles back, the first smile I think I've ever seen on her, and then looks back down at her menu. “Now then. I'm starving. Tahira, what are you having?”

* * *

Dinner passes peacefully after that. Almost, dare I say it, pleasantly. Afterwards, we step out onto the sidewalk and Meiko hails a cab while Kenji and I wait.

“Thank you both for a wonderful evening,” Meiko says before climbing into her cab. “I'm glad we did this.”

“Me too,” Kenji agrees.

“Thank you for everything,” I add. Meiko looks at me seriously.

“Keep an eye on him for me, Tahira. Okay?”

I nod solemnly. “Always.”

Meiko climbs into the cab and gives a small wave before she's whisked off down the street. Kenji turns to me, grinning.

“That went rather well, don't you think?”

“Definitely better than expected.”

“So...are you really gonna 'keep an eye on me'?”

“What do you think I've been doing all this time? I can't leave you without supervision.”

“Ouch! I suppose you're right, though. Thanks again. I couldn't have done this without you.”

“I'm not so sure about that,” I admit. “I think you could've. You just didn't know it was possible.”

“Maybe you're right.”

I feel my phone buzzing in my pocket and tug it out to find a text from Dax. “Oh, sorry, I gotta run. Dax wants me back at headquarters ASAP.”

“I'll see you around then. I'm going home to get some rest.”

“After what you've been through, you've earned it. I'll fill you in on everything tomorrow.”

* * *

Dax and Poppy are of course waiting for me back at the clocktower.

“What's so urgent?”

“We have a problem,” Dax announces. “And we need to find a solution.”

“What's the problem?”

“This so-called Liquid Prism. The thought of this stuff hitting the streets isn't exactly pleasant.”

“Well, no,” I agree. “It's a nightmare. I mean, I can handle a couple of bad guys, no problem. But when you give those bad guys superpowers? That's a whole different story.”

“But having Talos evens the odds a bit, right?” Poppy points out.

“It's only evening the odds if they're up against two of these guys. What if there are three? Or four? Or other numbers greater than two?”

“We get it, Dax. I'm screwed.”

“Maybe not,” Poppy says thoughtfully. “I might just have an idea. If you wanna take on a whole bunch of super-powered lowlifes, you're gonna need to come at them with a team of your own. And two people aren’t exactly a team. You need to do some recruiting.”

“Recruiting? But how? Who?”

“I'd start with someone who can make these big fights a little more manageable. Someone who can, I don't know...slow things down a bit?”

Dax's jaw drops. “You can't mean...”

“The girl from the club?” I finish.

“The one who stole my super suit?!”

Poppy looks between us, grinning. “That's exactly who I mean.”


	11. Behind the Mask

A few days later, I get off work and immediately head to the clocktower to meet with Dax and Poppy. I mount the stairs, and hear the sounds of bickering from inside the tower room. I enter to find Dax sprawled on the couch fiddling with a Rubik's cube while Poppy pours herself a glass of grape juice.

“Why can't we just call her Slo-Mo Girl? Or Time-warp...er. She has slow-motion powers! It's intuitive!”

“You may be smart, but you have no sense of branding.” Poppy puts the bottle of juice back in the mini-fridge. “We need something with allure!”

“Is this what you two do while I'm out?” I tease, tossing my purse onto the coffee table.

“Where were you?” Poppy asks, frowning. “Dax and I have been here for hours!”

“Work ran late,” I explain. “I've been helping Grayson prepare for the annual masquerade ball. It's mostly a chance for Silas to schmooze with investors, but this year he also wants to show off his collection of rare art and artifacts. You know, typical rich people stuff.”

“Well, I'm glad you got away in the end, because we have some exciting news about--”

“Minuet!” Poppy interrupts.

“Minu-what?”

“The girl who slows time. Minuet. You know, like a slow-tempo song?”

Dax shrugs. “It's no Timewarper, but I like it.”

I frown. “Do you really think I should try to recruit her? I mean...she pushed me off a building...”

“And then she protected you with a slow-time field. She could have let you fall to your death, but she didn't! She's practically a hero already!”

“As you yourself pointed out, I can fly. I didn't need protecting at all.”

“Then what's the problem?”

“An alliance would be beneficial,” Dax cuts in before I can retort. “Once the stolen liquid prism hits the streets, a lot of wannabe supervillains are gonna surface around the city.”

“I suppose that's true. And since she already knows my identity, I guess it'd only be wise to see if I can get her onto my side. But how do we even find her?”

“Funny you should ask. We've been looking into thefts around the city that only Minuet could've pulled off. Studying her pattern, we think we know her next target.”

“Silas Prescott's private collection of art and antiquities!” Poppy announces.

“...Which will be on display at the masquerade ball.”

“So all we have to do is corner a superpowered thief at a high-profile event and convince her to switch to the forces of good!” Dax finishes way too cheerfully.

“Okay...and what if she says no?”

“I...hadn't really considered that possibility,” Dax admits.

“If she says no, you'll be right back where you started,” Poppy says firmly. “You have nothing to lose.”

“Fair enough. All right. I'll keep an eye out for Minuet at the masquerade, then. And hopefully, I can convince her to join forces.”

* * *

On the night of the masquerade, I'm getting ready for the party when a knock sounds at my door. I open it to find Poppy, looking incredible in a wine-colored one-shoulder ball gown and an elegant mask of black lace beneath white.

“Hey, stranger. Looking to make a little _trouble?_ ”

I laugh. “Hey, Poppy. Looking good.”

Poppy's mouth twists into a little pout. “Dammit. How come when you wear a mask, suddenly no one knows who you are, but I get recognized right away?”

I step back to let her in. “Because no one actually expects me to be a superhero. Whereas you _just_ texted me to say you were on your way over.”

“Right. I did do that, didn't I.” She steps inside and throws herself dramatically onto the couch. “I need to lie down for a bit. I do _not_ recommend braving public transportation in stilettos. Not worth it.”

“I'll keep that in mind.”

“By the way, I _love_ your dress. Have I seen that one before?”

I twirl, showing off my dark purple gown, low cut in front, with slits up the sides. It perfectly matches my purple and gold mask. “Not likely. I bought it at a thrift store yesterday. So do I look beautiful? Elegant? Mysteeeeeerious?”

Poppy grins. “All of the above.”

“Well, if it catches Minuet's attention, that'll be a big help. Ready to head out?”

* * *

There's already a bustling crowd when Poppy and I arrive, all of them clad in formal attire and all manner of ornate masks.

“Tahira, this is amazing!” Poppy exclaims, looking around at the glittering decorations as we work our way closer to the podium. “You guys did an incredible job with the space!”

“It was a lot of work, I can tell you that much.”

“Hey, guys!” Dax, dressed in a white tuxedo and an orange half-mask, is squeezing through the crowd to reach us. As he approaches, he pulls something out of his jacket pocket. “I've got these earpieces for you. Since Tahira's not wearing her suit, we'll have to communicate the old-fashioned way.”

I raise an eyebrow. “Earpieces are old-fashioned now?”

“Well, relatively speaking. We should split up and do a sweep of the lobby. For all we know, Minuet is already here, biding her time.”

“Hello to you too, Dax,” Poppy teases. Dax, realizing his faux-pas, clears his throat.

“Sorry. Just focused on the mission, I guess.”

“No worries. You look nice, by the way.”

“Thanks. So do you. Like...really nice.” I clear my throat pointedly, and he looks over at me. “Right, Tahira. If you feel the need for an _outfit change,_ you'll find an attaché case beneath the hors d'oeuvre table.”

I roll my eyes. “I...meant my dress, Dax.”

“Right! Sorry. It's really pretty. Honest.”

“Smooth. I think you could use some champagne before we get started here.”

As I flag down one of the servers, Silas Prescott steps up to the podium to address the crowd. Everyone's conversations die down as he taps the microphone.

“Thank you all for joining me here tonight. You'll have to forgive my lack of a disguise. I didn't want our favorite DA to arrest me on sight.” Everyone laughs as Silas winks at Meiko Katsaros, standing at the head of the crowd. “In all seriousness, I can't say how relieved I am to see you safe and sound, DA Katsaros.”

“Thank you, Silas,” Meiko replies politely.

Silas' expression turns pensive as he looks back at his audience. “My late wife Helena took immense pride in the pieces we collected on our travels. It would have thrilled her to share this collection with all of you.”

He gestures to a row of glass cases behind velvet ropes, each display housing curious artifacts from all over the world. There's a piece at the very center that catches my eye. It's an amber-colored figurine of what looks like a ballerina wearing a mask and a skirt made of feathers. I'm not sure why my eye is drawn to that one in particular, but I can't seem to look away from it. That's the one Silas gazes at, running his finger gently over the case with a sad gleam in his eye.

“This one gave her particular joy,” he remarks. “She said it reminded her that there was more to this world than we could ever hope to understand. ...And it would have seriously pissed her off if I gave a long-winded speech. So here's to her, and to all of you. May you all find what you treasure. Now drink up! Enjoy the night! But remember, just because you're wearing a mask doesn't mean you can get away with everything...just _most_ things.”

The crowd laughs again, and everyone raises their glasses in toast. I feel a tap on my shoulder, and turn to find Poppy at my side.

“We're going to go mingle, search the crowd. You should do the same.”

I nod. “Will do.”

Dax and Poppy go their way and I go mine, meandering through the lobby searching for familiar faces, masked and unmasked. I find Grayson pretty quickly. I suppose I'm just drawn to him like a magnet. His eyes go wide behind his mask as I approach.

“Wow, Tahira! Is that you?”

“The one and only,” I confirm, grinning.

He looks me up and down appreciatively. “Once again, your outfit leaves me speechless. How do you always manage to do that?”

“I don't know. You're usually so eloquent.”

He chuckles. “Thank you again for helping me organizes this. I don't think I could have done it without you.”

“My pleasure. It's really generous of you to share this part of your mother's life with everyone.”

“It's a nice way to honor her memory, I think. Her passion for adventure kinda kept the family together.”

I feel a wave of melancholy wash over me. “You must really miss her.”

“Yeah. The three of us used to be close, actually. After she died, Dad buried himself in work...”

“And you?”

“School kept me occupied for a while, of course.”

“Let me guess. Back in high school, you were the class heartbreaker.”

He laughs. “Hardly. I had one relationship for...maybe a month there in senior year? But otherwise, I didn't do much heartbreaking.”

“I'm sure there were plenty of people who would love to say now that they'd had their hearts broken by Grayson Prescott.”

“If there were, they weren't obvious about it.”

“Or you were just uncommonly dense,” I tease. He makes a face, poking my shoulder playfully.

“As much as I'd love to spend the entire night suffering your teasing, I think I'd better go back to making my rounds.” But he takes my hand and gives it a gentle squeeze as he leans in to whisper in my ear. “But know that I'd rather be at your side.”

“Likewise,” I whisper back.

As he slips back into the crowd, I make my way toward the hors d'ouevre table. I'm feeling a little hungry, and I probably ought to see if I can locate that attaché case. Kenji and his mother are over there already, chatting as they load their plates with fruit tartlets and spanakopita triangles. They smile at me as I approach.

“Tahira! Speak of the devil.”

I smirk at Kenji's choice of words. “Nice. Compare me to Satan.”

“It's lovely to see you again, Tahira,” Meiko says, trying to disguise her amusement.

“Emphasis on lovely,” Kenji agrees. “Seriously, you look amazing.”

“Nice save.”

“Kenji was just telling me how instrumental you were in organizing this masquerade. Judging by the excellent turnout, I'd say you did an exceptional job.”

“Oh, I can't take credit for the turnout. People will jump up at any excuse to dress up and enjoy good food.”

Kenji grins at his mother. “Tahira and I share an appreciation for the art of disguise.”

Meiko gives him a stern look. “I hope you're not taking too many cues from those superhuman vigilantes.”

Kenji raises an eyebrow. “'Vigilantes'? Not 'menaces to society'? Or 'dangers to all of Northbridge'? You're getting soft, Mom.”

Meiko rolls her eyes. “I'll admit, I may have passed judgment on those individuals too quickly.” She looks at me. “I'm interested to hear your take on this, Tahira. What do you think of the state of crime in our city?”

I load a few hors d'ouevres onto my plate to avoid looking directly at Meiko as I answer. “Honestly, I've said from the beginning that the super _heroes_ should be the ones to handle the super _villains.”_ I pause a moment, raising my eyes to meet hers. “But let me ask you this: would you trust a super who had been a police officer before their powers manifested? Would you let them continue their work?”

“Well...I suppose so. If they were a good cop before, I certainly wouldn't see this as a reason to fire them.”

“...What happens when a criminal comes along that a non-super can't possibly handle? What if non-super criminals start slipping through the cracks because the police are distracted trying to keep down the supers who are trying to help? Frankly, I think the best approach is for both sides to work together. They have the same goal, and the superheroes are uniquely qualified to combat the rising tide of criminals with abilities.”

“An interesting thought. But I can hardly see the rest of the police force agreeing to that.”

“Would you?” Kenji asks.

“I'd...consider it. Tahira makes some interesting points. But not one of these so-called superheroes has even reached out to law enforcement, let alone offered to work alongside us.”

“Maybe they don't feel safe enough to do so,” I suggest, unable to keep the hint of an edge from my voice. “Didn't you go on TV and say they were no better than the criminals?”

Meiko stiffens, and I can tell my words have hit their mark, but she doesn't reply. Kenji plasters on a bright smile.

“Well, I for one think these superheroes are badass. Especially that Talos guy.”

I snort. “Of course you do.”

“I admit, I didn't like him at first,” Meiko says softly. “But he stepped up and put himself on the line when it was needed. You could learn a lot from him, Kenji.”

“Is that so?” Kenji asks dryly. I sigh inwardly. If Meiko ever does learn Kenji's secret, she's finally going to taste that foot she keeps sticking in her mouth.

“It is.” She glances across the room and sighs. “Excuse me. The mayor has just arrived. I should probably say hello.”

I give Kenji a sympathetic smile as she walks away. “Kinda hard to live up to your own example, huh?”

“Try impossible. But at least she's eased up a little since...well, since you came to dinner with us. Thanks again for that.”

“Of course.”

“So...mind telling me why you and Dax and Poppy are acting all weird and sneaky?”

“Who's acting sneaky?” I ask innocently. “We're just enjoying the party.”

“You are a terrible liar, Tahira Rogers. Clearly, you three are up to something. Anything I can do to help?”

“Let me know if you see a girl with dark hair and sticky fingers.”

He grins. “Well, you have dark hair. And you just picked up an iced bun.”

“Har har. You're hilarious.”

“Yes, I am.” We wander away from the table, back toward the podium. I nibble at my plate of treats, though I am certainly ready to drop it at a moment's notice.

“You call this security?! What do we pay you for?!” Marjorie's voice hits my ears and makes me groan, even knowing she isn't talking to me. I turn to find her giving an earful to poor Santiago at his post.

“We're making the rounds according to protocol!” Santiago protests. “Standard patrol routes!”

“Then why do you regularly leave your post to walk around the premise every few minutes?!”

“That's literally what patrol means!”

“Oh, boy...” I murmur to Kenji. “I think Santiago may need a little backup.”

Kenji chuckles. “Yeah. Go be a hero.” I set down my plate on the nearest hard surface and step up to the quarreling pair.

“What's the problem here?”

“The security at this event is embarrassingly lax!” Marjorie declares angrily. “Any supervillain could just walk right in to the masquerade for goodness sake!”

“And that's certainly something no one wants,” I assure her, keeping my tone mild. Santiago sighs.

“Look, will it satisfy you if I call in a few more of my guys?”

Marjorie scowls. “Very slightly. Make it snappy, though. Here comes the boss.”

I turn to look where she's looking, and sure enough, Silas Prescott is wandering in our direction. I turn back, only to find that both Marjorie and Santiago have both walked off in opposite directions. I turn round again, and Silas Prescott is nearly beside me.

“Hey...Mr. Prescott...”

“Good evening, Tahira. I'm glad I caught up with you. I was hoping to run into you this evening.”

“Really?”

“Indeed. May I speak honestly?”

“I...certainly hope so.”

He chuckles, and there is a hint of approval in his eyes. “Well, then. To be frank, I have noticed how close you are to my son. You know him better than...well, better than I do, that's for sure. He confides in you. Am I wrong?”

“No, you're not wrong. I am his assistant, after all.”

“I believe you may be more even than that. But that's not what is under discussion here. As you know, he and I don't exactly see eye-to-eye on the Bayside redevelopment project. What is your perspective on the issue?”

“You want to know my opinion?”

“I asked, didn't I?”

“Well then. It may not surprise you to hear, but I agree with Grayson. What is this city without its people? By redeveloping Bayside, you'd effectively be forcing people out of their homes. Out of the neighborhood they've known their whole lives. A neighborhood that's been home to generations of families. And for what? Money? Personally, I'm more concerned with the human cost of such a plan.”

Silas barely conceals his condescending smile. “You do sound like my son. I shouldn't be surprised. Idealism spreads like wildfire if you leave it unchecked.”

I raise an eyebrow. “Excuse me?”

He chuckles. “A shallow answer on the surface, but a diplomatic one. I'm not sure whether to be disappointed or impressed.”

“Everyone's gotta have a code. Diplomacy is part of mine.”

“Hnn. Impressed it is, then. It seems there's more to you than meets the eye, Tahira.”

I smirk. “You have no idea.”

“And what is _that_ supposed to mean?”

“Nothing, I just--”

“Mr. Prescott!” Poppy calls cheerfully as she strides over. “You look very dashing tonight!” I'm not sure if she noticed my discomfort or if she just happened to be coming over anyway, but either way I'm grateful.

“Oh! Why thank you.”

Poppy strokes her chin thoughtfully, examining his attire with an expert eye. “Windsor cut, wide lapel, medium-suppressed waist...let me guess. Tom Ford?”

Silas smiles. “Good eye.”

Poppy smiles charmingly, hooking her arm through mine. “You don't mind if I borrow Tahira, do you? Dax was asking for her. Urgent work business or something.”

“Of course, of course. Enjoy the party, both of you.”

“Thank you,” I whisper to Poppy as we scurry away. “Seriously.”

“I figured you'd appreciate being rescued for once,” she replies with a grin.

As the evening goes on, I migrate back toward the hors d'oeuvre table and activate the earpiece that Dax gave me.

“No sign of Minuet anywhere,” I murmur. “Any luck on your end?”

 _“Nothing,”_ Poppy sighs. _“A pretty uneventful party. Playlist is great though.”_

_“Zilch from Eagle Eye.”_

“I'm a little disappointed,” I admit.

“I know the feeling.” The familiar voice behind me makes me jump. I whirl around to see Minuet in a mask and gown, smirking at me. “This party is a bit boring, isn't it?”

“You!”

“Nice to see you again, too. Although I must admit...” She presses close to me, her hips against mine as she leans in to whisper in my ear, “I like your other mask better.”

I grab her wrist, squeezing just hard enough to remind her of my strength. “I know what you're doing,” I hiss. “I know exactly what you're after.”

“And I had a feeling you'd try to stop me. Yet here I am. Which means I'm either extremely reckless, or I don't consider you much of a threat. Three guesses which.”

“You don't have to do this. I just want to talk.” I let my grip loosen. “With your abilities--”

“Really? The recruitment speech already? You're good, hero. And cute, too. But it's just too much fun being bad.”

She pulls back her hand and saunters away, throwing me a wink over her shoulder. I take a step toward her, but before I've shifted my weight to take another step, I find myself drowning in darkness. Every light in the building is suddenly out, and the guests are shrieking in surprise and confusion.

 _“What's going on?!”_ Poppy cries in my ear.

“It's Minuet! She's here!” I'm close enough to the hors d'oeuvre table to slip underneath it and find the case Dax left for me with minimal groping. I exchange masks first, tapping the top left side of my superhero mask to turn on the night-vision. I swap out my gown for my suit, and stuff the gown into the case before rolling out from under the table. “I'm suited up! I'm going after her!”

Over at the artifact display, one case gapes open, empty. “She took the idol! The ballerina statue thing!” A trail of attendants is locked in slow-motion, indicating her path. I rise above the clusters of guests trapped in slow-time fields, and fly to the exit over their heads.

Outside, I touch down and scan the street. I spot Minuet in the distance with a stuffed satchel under her arm. That must be the idol in the bag. I plant my feet, preparing to push off the pavement and go after her.

“Stop right there, Dragonness!” I turn to see Meiko glaring at me as she stalks toward me. “A dozen squad cars are on their way, and you're a person of interest in a superpowered crime spree!”

I curl my hands into fists, fighting to stay calm. “DA Katsaros, believe me. We're on the same side. We both want the same thing. We can work together.”

Meiko's mouth is tight, and for a moment, I think she is going to refuse. But then she steps aside.

“Go. I never saw you. But don't make me regret this!”

I take off again, trailing Minuet as she emerges onto a crowded city street and promptly blends into the crowd. Where did she go? But then I spot her, dressed in street clothes again and stuffing her mask and gown into her satchel. Using the bodies of the crowd to conceal myself, I push toward her, closing the distance. But suddenly, she whips her head around to face me. She raises a hand, but I react faster, shooting three stories into the air and scattering a flock of pigeons as I take up a perch on a nearby rooftop. The onlookers below seem to have finally realized who I am and point up at me, cheering and applauding. Crap. That may have been too conspicuous.

I scan the crowd below frantically for Minuet, but I quickly lose her in the shuffle. I take off in the direction I think she was heading. It's all I can do. Luck appears to be with me, though. I finally spot her a few blocks ahead of me, and I soar down to close in on her. The bag is gone, either hidden or handed off to someone in the crowd. She keeps looking over her shoulder as she sprints down the sidewalk, but I keep myself out of sight. Suddenly, it hits me where she's headed, and I freeze in midair. ...She's going to Northbridge General Hospital.

I head to alight on another rooftop within view of the hospital as she enters the building. I feel a little helpless here. There are so many places I could lose her inside a hospital. But luck is still with me, and she reappears in a third-story window a short while later. I fly in for a closer look, pressing myself against the outer wall and peeking in just enough to get a view of the patient's bed.

He's an older man, rail thin and barely moving. A neon green line blips across a screen, showing a steady heartbeat. Minuet approaches his bed with cautious movements, and his eyes flutter, a weak smile curving his lips. I can't hear what they say to each other in the minutes that follow, but I don't think I need to in order to guess who he is to her. It's in the way he looks at her, the way she takes his hand, and the way he enfolds hers between both his palms.

Finally, Minuet's father sinks back on his pillows, drifting back to sleep. She bends to kiss his forehead and reluctantly leaves. I float back up to the rooftop in a bit of a daze to sit and wait for her to walk back out onto the city street.

 _“Tahira?”_ Dax's voice coming through my mask startles me. _“Do you read me?”_

“I read you. What's the situation over there?”

_“The guests went home, security's going over the lobby. Poppy and I are back at the clocktower. Did you catch Minuet?”_

“Not yet. I'm waiting for her to come out of the hospital.”

_“The hospital?”_

“Long story. But I think I've got a bit more understanding of what makes her tick. And I might have an idea about finally getting the drop on her. I just have to play to my strengths.”

I crouch on the edge of the rooftop, my muscles wound tight as I prepare to spring. When Minuet steps outside the hospital's front doors, I dive. Fast as lightning, I streak toward her, snatching her up in my arms, and immediately rocketing skyward again. Minuet shrieks in genuine terror as the ground falls away beneath her feet and the lights of the skyscrapers blur as we shoot past. She grips my arms, her fingers digging into my flesh.

“Put me down!” she screams. “Oh god, oh god, _put me down!”_

I stop our ascent only once we've cleared the skyscrapers. “Or what?”

“Or I'll...I'll...” She trails off, her voice becoming a wordless whimper.

“I'm guessing you've just realized what will happen if you use your slow-time powers up here. You'd be stuck up here with me. Am I wrong?”

“...No. No you're not! Are you happy?”

“Very.”

“You don't have to be so smug about it!” she whines, and I have to admit I feel a little sorry for her. “What do you want with me, anyway? You're not getting that idol back, if that's what you think! Or the suit!”

“I'm not here for either of those things. I just want to talk.”

“...You do?”

“I do. And if you agree to hear me out, we can have this conversation on solid ground. Deal?”

Minuet swallows, looking down at her dangling feet. She nods. “Fine. But I'll be watching you _closely._ ”

“Likewise,” I promise. I start back down again, and Minuet twists in my arms, pushing her face into my shoulder. I hear her breath increase sharply, and her fingertips dig deeper into my flesh. I keep our descent easy, finally touching down on a quiet, secluded beach along Northbridge's waterfront. Once our feet are planted on the soft sand, I release Minuet. To my surprise, she doesn't try to run. She folds her arms and glares reproachfully at me.

“Okay, hero. You wanna talk, let's talk.”

I take a seat on the sand and pat the ground beside me. She rolls her eyes, but she sits down.

“...The man you were visiting in the hospital. Your father, right?”

She stiffens. “Were you _spying_ on me?”

“I was tracking a thief. That thief went to the hospital to visit an older man. I put a few things together. ...He's the reason you're stealing, isn't he. I'm guessing...medical bills? Treatment?”

She glares at me. “Why don't you get to the point?”

“I think I have a good guess what's going on with you. And if I'm right, it means you aren't as bad as you would have me believe. I may not agree with your methods, or your apparent disregard for other people's property, but I can respect your reasons. The thing is, there are people out there who _are_ bad. People with powers like you and me who only want to hurt people. And that's not the worst of it. Prescott Industries has developed an experimental serum that can give the user super strength and resilience when injected. And a whole truckload of that serum just got stolen by some enterprising young lowlifes who plan to sell it on the street. In other words, this city just got a whole lot more super. And a whole lot more dangerous. I want us to team up. To protect those who can't protect themselves.”

“I'm not exactly the good Samaritan type. Why should I risk my neck for anyone else?” Minuet picks up a handful of sand and trickles it over the toe of her shoe. “Nobody came to my dad's rescue when he got sick.”

“What do you mean?”

Minuet jams her fingers into the cool sand. “Nothing. Forget it.”

“You can tell me, you know. Help me understand.”

“What, are we best friends now? You don't even know my name!”

“You know mine.”

“Only because you were stupid enough to tell me.”

“Maybe I just knew I could trust you. Call it a hunch.”

“I'd stop trusting your hunches then.”

“They haven't let me down yet.”

Minuet narrows her eyes, but then her shoulders slump as she exhales. “...Eva. My name is Eva.”

“Nice to meet you, Eva.”

Eva rolls her eyes, but she smiles in spite of herself. “You're kinda weird. You know that, right?”

“So I've been told. ...So what happened to your dad?”

Her face falls again, and she looks away. “He used to work at this chemical factory in Bayside. The place was a total safety hazard. Long hours, dangerous working conditions...the works. The owner's a real scumbag. Doesn't care about his employees at all so long as he's making a profit. My dad slaved away for nearly two decades. I kept begging him to get a new job, somewhere safer, but he said he couldn't risk leaving. Then the risks of staying caught up with him. I guess he was exposed to a lot of harmful chemicals, 'cause he ended up with lung cancer, and--” Eva's voice breaks, her face twisting with agony. I cautiously lay a hand on her back, and when she doesn't flinch away, I keep it there.

“...I'm sorry.”

“The only reason he worked so hard was to take care of me. Now I'm gonna take care of him. No matter the cost. And I don't care if you have a problem with it. I just need to do whatever I can to get more time with him. And right now that means paying medical bills. Which means I need money.”

I look out over the ocean, listening to the waves whispering as they break against the shore. “...What if there was a way for you to get that money without stealing? If you can prove the factory is unsafe, the courts would have to force the owner to cover your dad's medical expenses. They might even send the guy to jail if we get enough evidence.”

“...'We'?”

“You heard me. I'll help you help your dad, and you'll consider helping me with this whole city. Deal?”

There is a long silence as Eva considers my offer. Finally she grins. “Okay, hero. Deal.” She pulls out her phone from her pocket, unlocks it, and hands it to me.

“What's this for?”

“I need your number if I'm going to get in touch with you. Duh.”

“Ahh, right. One sec.”

I punch my number into her contacts list and pass her phone back to her, frowning as I glimpse the time. “Good lord, is it really that late?”

Eva laughs. “You call this late? The night's just getting started!”

“Maybe for you!”

“Tell you what, let's have one drink before you turn back into a pumpkin. You know, to celebrate teamwork and justice and all that stuff you're so into.”

“You make it sound so cheesy.”

“Don't worry, I think it's adorable. Now how about that drink?”

“I can't go drinking dressed like this.”

“Then we'll stop at your place on the way.”

I sigh. “Fine, you talked me into it. In the name of teamwork and justice.”

* * *

In a dimly lit dive bar downtown, Eva and I sit on worn out stools with duct tape covering holes in the plastic where the stuffing is spilling out, sipping Old Fashioneds. A laconic blues song plays quietly under the murmurs of the other patrons' conversations and the occasional clinking of glasses.

“So, Tahira, have you always been a goodie two-shoes, or is this a new look for you?”

“Hey, I used to get up to some bad stuff,” I protest with mock-indignation.

“Oh, yeah? Like what?”

“Back in college, I skipped class once.” When she raises an eyebrow, I grin. “I'd accidentally made an appointment to give blood that day. Pretty hardcore, huh?”

Eva snorts. “In other words, you're pretty much an angel.”

I shrug. “Pretty much.” I just hope she thought I was joking about that story. Somehow, it's less charming when you know it actually happened.

“Well, if angels look like you, maybe I'll try a little harder to get into heaven.” She winces, looking embarrassed. “God, that was such a dumb line. I don't know what came over me.”

“It wasn't so bad.”

“Oh yeah? Well, I've got more in me. Just keep buying me drinks.”

“I seem to recall agreeing to _one...”_

“You were never gonna stick to that, and you know it.”

I finish off my drink, eyeing Eva over the lip of the glass. Finally, I set down the empty glass with a sigh. “Okay, you're right. Who needs sleep anyway? Next round's on me. But that means it's your turn to answer some personal questions.”

“Not until after the second round.” True to her word, when we've polished off our second round of Old Fashioneds, she turns to me. “Okay, what do you want to know?”

“...Have you ever gotten caught?”

“Well, there was one time. I was breaking into this rich guy's townhouse, and one of his kids had just gotten out of bed to get a glass of water.”

“What did you do?”

“Got the kid a glass of water and got the hell out. What else?”

“You didn't take anything with you?”

“Didn't feel right once the kid caught me.”

“So you have a conscience after all.”

“Don't tell anyone. I've got a reputation to consider.” She turns to me with a sultry smile on her lips and brings a hand to rest on my knee. “...Next round's on me.”

Of course, once she pays for another, I have to pay for one more. We've gone four rounds by the time we stumble out onto the sidewalk. Eva nearly trips over a fire hydrant.

“God, walking is _hard._ Can't you just fly me home?”

“Pretty sure you'd just get airsick. And that's if I don't crash into a bird. ...Pretty sure I can drink more than the average person, but I'm feeling pretty buzzy...”

Eva throws an arm over my shoulder to steady herself. “Fiiiiiiine.”

I slip her a sidelong glance. “You're not gonna disappear on me again, are you?”

“No way. We're in this together now, Tahira. For better or for worse.”

“Better, I think. Hope.”

Eva pats my shoulder clumsily, grinning. “Guess we'll find out.”


	12. Night Work

The day after the masquerade, I reconvene with Dax and Poppy at the clocktower to fill them in.

“You agreed to _what?!_ ” Dax yelps.

“Come on, Dax,” Poppy chides. “It's all part of the recruitment process. What's the mission, Tahira?”

“I'm helping Eva take down Mayhew Dynamics. They're a chemical manufacturing company. Maybe you've heard of them?”

“Yeah,” Dax murmurs. “And what I've heard isn't good. The owner, Russell Mayhew, has spent his entire career weaseling out of lawsuits. Not to mention ruthlessly exploiting his workers. But deep pockets plus major connections equals one dirtbag who is practically untouchable.”

“He won't be after today. Eva and I are going to investigate one of his factories for some evidence to take him down.”

“So just a little corporate espionage, huh?” Poppy remarks. “Shouldn't be too dangerous.”

“Sure, but in this town, it pays to expect the unexpected. Especially with this Liquid Prism hitting the streets. Which is why Poppy and I have prepared a few upgraded suit designs for you to try on. They're layered with extra protection to withstand harsher impact.”

“And I helped redesign the looks!” Poppy says proudly. “This mission would be the perfect chance to see them in action.”

Dax ducks behind the computer console and emerges with what appears to be a high-tech garment bag, which he lays on the coffee table to open with a flourish. Inside is another sleek black suit, not too different from the one I'm currently wearing, although there it does have blue light-up detailing on the torso.

“So...it's just like my old suit but with landing lights?”

Poppy rolls her eyes. “They're not landing lights. And no, it isn't just like your old suit. Like Dax said, it's stronger. You can withstand more fire damage. Plus, I also make a blue and red version if you decide you want something more colorful.”

“I'll pass on that. I think people are getting used to Dragonness wearing black. ...Thanks for the upgrades, though. Anything I can do to make myself safer has to be a bonus.”

I slip behind the open door to change, and emerge a few minutes later to show off the new suit.

“Awesome,” Poppy declares. “You look even more badass now!”

“Agreed.”

“Wow, not a bad look for you, Tahira.”

All three of us yelp as we whip around to find Eva smiling down at us from the railing on the balcony.

“Eva!”

“How did she get in here?!” Dax hisses.

Eva steps into the tower room, looking around at our set-up. “So this is Dragonness's secret lair? Very high-tech. And comfortable, too. I could get used to a place like this.”

“Seriously, how did she get in here?!”

Eva smiles enigmatically and winks. “Girls as beautiful as Tahira don't exactly blend into the crowd. It wasn't hard to tail you here. I hate to break it to you, goggles, but breaking into your super-secure HQ isn’t much of a challenge to someone like me.”

“You mean a thief?” Dax retorts. “Or someone wearing a stolen high-tech stealth suit? Which, by the way, still makes you a thief! Because you stole it!”

“Come on, Dax. That's no way to treat a guest.” Poppy smiles at Eva and puts out her hand. “I'm Poppy, by the way. We're all really happy to have you here. Even if some of us are a little too busy holding grudges to say so.”

“Seriously? I'm the bad guy here?! That's my suit!”

“Ever heard of 'fingers keepers'?” Eva says sweetly.

“You didn't find the suit! You stole it!”

Poppy looks helplessly at me. “Ummm...Tahira?”

I sigh. “Look, Dax has a point, Eva. He worked hard on that suit. And it's definitely worth a lot on money.”

“Thank you!”

Eva rolls her eyes. “All right, look. If it matters so much to you, then...sure I'll give it back.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, just not today. I mean, I kind of need it to do this mission. Can we just say that...I'm borrowing it? Indefinitely?”

“Um...sure. So long as I get it back eventually.”

“Great!” Poppy says, clapping her hands. “Glad we got that sorted out. Now, on with the mission!”

“You ready for this, Eva?”

Eva's expression turns to grim determination. “Let's do this.”

* * *

Under the cover of night, Eva and I arrive at Mayhew Dynamics factory and crouch behind some dumpsters.

“Remember,” I murmur, “we just need proof that this factory's not up to code. We should avoid getting our hands dirty if we don't have to.”

“We might not have a choice,” Eva whispers back. “Look over there.”

I follow her gaze to a spotlight operated by a guard in full tactical gear. I frown. “Dax, why would a standard commercial factory need protection from paramilitary operatives?”

 _“It wouldn't,”_ Dax confirms. _“This mission just got a lot more complicated.”_

“I'd like to know what they're protecting.”

“Hiding, more likely,” Eva says grimly. “Come on, Tahira. Let's break so skulls.”

“There's no need for skull-breaking! I say firmly. Figurative or otherwise. If we go in there guns blazing, they'll just start destroying evidence. Best to play it stealthy.”

For a moment, I think Eva is going to argue, but then she nods. “Fine. We'll do it your way. But if we don't find the evidence we're looking for, I _will_ beat it out of Russell. Got it?”

“Let's hope it doesn't come to that. Now let's figure out a way in.” I watch the spotlight as it sweeps back and forth over the courtyard in a slow, steady motion. “We could try to run through the front while the spotlight's focused elsewhere, but we'd risk being spotted.”

 _“I pulled up a floor plan for the factory on the construction company's website,”_ Dax says. _“There should be a ventilation shaft around back. If you're not feeling too claustrophobic, that could be a good entry point.”_

 _“Wouldn't someone hear them crawling around in there?”_ Poppy wonders nervously.

_“Well, possibly. Either way, there's risk involved.”_

“Well, no one ever said this was going to be easy,” I sigh. “But the vents are probably our best bet.”

“I'd rather just put that guy's head through his stupid spotlight and call it a day.”

“I know, I know. Just bear with me, okay?”

“You're the boss.”

Eva and I circle around the back of the factory and find the ventilation shaft Dax was referring to. A metal grate covers the entrance. I carefully grip one of the nuts around the circumference of the grate and summon my strength to twist it free. One by one, I unscrew each nut from the grate and carefully pull it free.

“Jackpot.” I peer inside, switching on my night-vision. “Looks like it'll be a tight fit.”

“Good thing I've been watching my figure,” Eva quips. I slip into the ventilation shaft and Eva crawls in after me.

“Stay close to me,” I murmur. “It's pretty dark.”

“You scared or something?”

I snort softly. “No, I'm just the one with the night-vision mask.”

“Bold of you to assume my mask doesn't have night-vision. You have a gorgeous ass, by the way.”

“Did you hear that?!” I freeze at the male voice that floats up through a metal grate ahead of us.

“Calm down, rookie!” his partner scoffs. “It's a factory. Factories make noises.”

“I'm serious! It sounded like...like people talking!”

“Well, I've always heard this place was haunted. They say some poor worker fell into a vat of molten steel a few years back. Now his ghost roams the factory, reminding everyone to wear goggles and observe proper safety procedures.”

“Oh, hardy har har.”

“You know, I wouldn't be surprised if someone _did_ die here. Word on the street is that Mayhew doesn't exactly concern himself with little things like employee safety.”

The guards’ voices start to grow fainter as they round the corner, and I realize that I was holding my breath. I let it out slowly, letting it take the tension from my muscles out with it.

“Come on,” Eva says behind me. “As much as I like being this close to your gorgeous butt, I'd rather not wait up around here any longer than I have to.”

“I find your fixation with my butt suspect.”

We crawl a few yards further down the shaft and find another grate looking into a high-tech security office. I unscrew the grate and slide it off the opening. I float carefully through the opening into the office below. Eva rappels down after me with her grappling hook.

“All right, we're in. Now we just have to--” Footsteps outside the door make me cut myself off with a gasp. Eva and I dive behind a desk as the door handle turns.

“Man, talk about pulling the short straw,” the same young guard from the hallway grumbles as he and his partner enter the office. “What'd we do to end up on the graveyard shift, huh?”

“I'm more curious what I did to get paired up with the rookie.”

“Very funny. Got any advice for the next generation, _old man?_ ”

“Sure. Do what the boss tells you to do, don't ask too many questions, and don't stick your nose where it doesn't belong. You'll live longer that way. Easier on your conscience, too, if you've still got one.”

Eva and I exchange a glance as the guards wander over to the monitors to observe the feeds. Eva points to the rookie, and then at herself. I nod. She holds up a fist, extending three fingers. She lowers one, then another. Then the last.

Together, we burst out from behind the desk. I go for the older guard while Eva captures the rookie in a slow-motion field.

“What the--?!”

“Hey, stop right--”

I grapple the older guard into a sleeper hold, and as he goes limp, I ease him down to the floor. “Sweet dreams. Eva are you ready to— _Eva!”_

Eva is pummeling the rookie guard with kicks and punches while he's trapped in slow-motion, every blow sending rippling shockwaves through his body. I throw myself at Eva and wrap my arms around her, pinning her arms to her sides.

“Eva, stop it! He's had enough!”

The guard is slumping toward the floor. Breathing heavily, Eva flicks her wrist and dissolves her time field. The guard's head slams into the desk as he drops, leaving him unconscious on the floor. I release her slowly before forcibly turning her to face me.

“That was _too_ far!” I growl, gripping her shoulders. Eva's mouth twists angrily.

“Please. It's less that he deserves if he's working security for a guy like Russell Mayhew! You heard them, these guys know exactly what they're doing and they _don't care!_ ”

“That doesn't excuse that kind of violence on your part!”

Eva pulls roughly away from me. I could hold her if I wanted to, but I let her go. Eva points to one of the security feeds, where Russell Mayhew paces his office, nursing a glass of whiskey.

“I know where we're headed next.”

I don't press the subject as we make our way to Mayhew's office. On the factory floor, we find half a dozen guards in tactical gear blocking our path.

“We need to find a way to sneak around them.”

“There's no time,” Eva growls. “They're in between me and Mayhew. I'm taking them down.”

“Eva, wait!” Before I can stop her, she fires her grappling line into the rafters high overhead, and swings toward the guards, and plants her foot in one of their armored chests. A wave of energy paralyzes him and she hits him with a brutal flurry of kicks, knocking him back through the air.

“It's Minuet!” she snarls. “In case they ask who kicked your asses.”

“You think you can take on us?” one of the guard taunts.

I launch into the air and crash down into their midst, shaking the ground beneath my feet with my landing.

“Stand aside! We're only here for Mayhew!”

“That's Dragonness! Boys, it's time for our secret weapon!” To my horror, the guards all have syringes filled with pink liquid on their person. In a flash, they all have them in hand and jam the needles into their forearms.

“That's Liquid Prism!” I warn Eva. Not a moment too soon, as one of the guards picks up a steel barrel and flings it at us. “Minuet!”

“On it!” She thrusts out her open hand, the air in front of her distorting with rippling energy. The barrel stops just a few meters ahead of us, hanging in midair as it slows to a crawl. I snatch the barrel from the air as Eva releases the slow-field, and hurl it back at the guard. Eva levels her grappling hook launcher and takes aim.

“Let's end these guys, Dragonness!”

“Hit 'em low, and I'll go high.”

Eva fires her line and the hook snags on the guard's ankle. I zoom forward and clothesline him across the neck as Eva yanks his legs out from under him. He hits the ground with a thud. I feel two guards grab me from behind, pulling me away from Eva. I struggle, but the Liquid Prism has made them both more than a match for me.

“We're just getting started, Dragonness! We're gonna crush you!”

“Minuet! Just like the masquerade job!”

“On it!”

Eva darts off to a panel of switches on the wall. The room plunges into darkness. My night-vision activates automatically, to my pleasant surprise. Must be part of the new upgrades. It gives me the advantage, and I wrestle free of my attackers, dispatching them with two solid knockout punches. When the lights go back up, I regroup with Eva, jumping back into the fray, brawling with guard after guard, until only one is left standing. The leader rips a thick steel beam from the wall, hoisting it over his head with his Liquid Prism-enhanced strength.

“It's over!” I shout. “Give it up!”

But he leaps into the air, swinging the beam down like a sledgehammer as he sails toward us. But Eva thrusts out both hands, and the guard slows in midair, trapped at a glacial pace by Minuet's energy. I fly up to meet him, driving my fist forward in one monumental punch. The guard goes flying, smashing into the far wall hard enough to dent it. I land, catching my breath, and smile at Eva.

“Not bad for our first--”

“Come on!” Eva interrupts. “No time to waste!” She strides toward the main office with a stony expression on her face, and opens the door with a vicious kick. The frightened man at the desk nearly falls backward in his chair.

“What the hell?!”

“Russell Mayhew!” Eva roars.

“Stay back!” Russell warns. “One call and I can have this place swarming with guards!”

“Better do it then,” I tell him. “We're in a hurry, and my partner here is impatient.”

“I...I'll do it!”

“Oh, please. If you could you would have done it by now. I don't have time for this.” Eva grabs him by the hair and slams his head on the table. “We want access to your computer! Now!”

“A little rough there, Minuet...”

“Desperate times,” she snaps back. A whimpering Mayhew types a password into the computer on his desk with shaking fingers. One hand still gripping his hair, Eva searches through the files. I come to look over her shoulder.

“It's all here,” I murmur. “Ledgers, audits, internal emails...Proof that Mayhew Dynamics was responsible for employees getting sick.”

“P-please,” Mayhew whimpers. “You got what you wanted, right?”

“Not even close,” Eva says flatly. She pulls Mayhew up and flips him hard onto the ground.

“Minuet, _stop!_ That's enough!”

Eva grabs the edges of the tall, loaded bookshelf by the wall, and tips it over onto Mayhew. My body moves as if in quicksand as the whole scene plays out in slow motion. Mayhew scrambles to escape at a snail's pace as the shelf drifts ominously toward him.

“Sorry, Dragonness,” Eva says darkly. “I can't have you interfere. Russell here is about to get what's coming to him. The shelf weighs more than enough to crush him like a bug, and he's going to feel it all... _slowly._ ”

“Y-you want more?!” Mayhew cries desperately. “The safe behind that painting! The combination is 2-2-7-4-3!”

Eva goes to the safe and punches in the code. She opens the door and pulls out a small, nondescript hard drive.

“The info on that drive! There's enough dirt on it to take even Silas Prescott down! Take it and go! Please! Just don't hurt me!”

“Minuet, come on,” I plead, straining against her power. “We got what we wanted”

“It's not good enough! This man needs to suffer!” She gestures with her hand, letting the heavy hardwood shelf sink closer and closer to Mayhew.

“Stop! You can't do this!”

“And why shouldn't I?!”

“Because your dad wouldn't want you to!”

“And what would you know about my dad?!”

“I don't know him specifically. But I know he loves you. And I don't believe any truly loving father would want his daughter to become a killer. Look around you. Do _you_ really believe your father would thank you for this?”

Eva's lips tremble. Then, with a frustrated grunt, she pulls Mayhew out of the path of the falling shelf. She releases her hold on it and it crashes to the floor with a thunderous thud, just inches from Mayhew's head. He lies trembling and whimpering, his eyes wide and wild with fright.

“You're lucky, Mayhew,” Eva hisses. “I will have justice. But not like this.”

I put a hand on Eva's shoulders as the sound of police sirens grows louder in the distance. “Come on. We gotta go.”

* * *

Back at the clocktower, I hand over Mayhew's hard drive, and Dax plugs it into his computer.

“So, what's it say? Can you open it?”

“Not that easy, I'm afraid. The drive's encrypted, of course, so we're going to have to decrypt it if we want a look at what's on there.”

“Can you do it?” Eva asks.

“I can, but it will take time. We're currently at...0.023% completion.”

“You two did good back there,” Poppy says. “Russell Mayhew has just been taken into police custody.”

“And the incriminating evidence on his computer has been sent to the Northbridge PD.”

“Well, we couldn't have done it without you guys,” I say sincerely.

“She's right. Thank you both.”

“Well, you're welcome,” Dax says, offering Eva a smile. “And...welcome to the team.”

“Speaking of which, you still need to meet Kenji.” Poppy, realizing what she's just said, gasps. “I mean Talos! I mean--”

On the desk, my phone buzzes insistently. I take a glance. “Well, speak of the devil! A text from Kenji. Apparently, there's a VIP booth waiting for us at The Grand, if we're not too busy. And Grayson's there, too!”

“Well, it's looking like this decryption is going to take a while,” Dax sighs. “I'm definitely up for a distraction. Let's go.”

* * *

At The Grand, the bouncer immediately waves us inside. The club is packed with people, colored lights dancing across the crowd.

“Hey, there's Kenji!” Dax points to an exclusive booth in the corner. We make our way over, but I notice Eva slowing her steps.

“Nervous?”

“A little, honestly.”

“Are you worried about fitting in?”

“Maybe. I can tell these people mean a lot to you.”

“Then me inviting you should say something.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. You'll be fine. If not, you can always take off with your grappling hook.”

“I just might do that.”

Kenji and Grayson look up expectantly as we approach the table. I smile. “Kenji, Grayson, this is Eva. Eva...Grayson and Kenji.”

“Great to finally meet you, Eva,” Kenji says, reaching over to shake her hand.

“'Finally'?” Grayson repeats.

“Oh, yeah...Tahira has mentioned her a few times, I think.”

“Yeah...Eva and I are in the same spin class. And Poppy, too! You know, exercising squad and whatnot.”

“Oh, yeah,” Poppy confirms. “Eva's a natural.”

“Well, I love spin class,” Eva says.

Grayson nods, smiling. “Why don't you take a seat? I'll grab everyone some drinks.” He scoots out of the booth and heads over to the bar.

“Well, look at this,” Kenji says as soon as he's out of earshot. “I'm excited Northbridge's super-trio's finally in the same place!”

“So, you're the Man of Bronze.” Kenji smirks, raising his glass. Eva smirks back. “The gossip columns and newspapers really don't do you justice.”

“I'm afraid nothing really can.”

“Oh, don't inflate his ego,” Poppy groans. “It's bad enough as it is.”

In a few minutes, Grayson returns with a tray of shots, and passes them out.

“Fair warning,” Dax says, “I talk crazy when I'm drunk.”

“All the more reason to do it,” Eva declares.

“Tahira, what should we drink to?”

“Here's to tonight,” I say, raising my glass. “To this moment, where all is right with the world.”

“And here's to hoping we get to hear some of Dax's crazy talk,” Eva adds.

“Hear, hear!”

“Should I be nervous?” Dax wonders. “I'm nervous.”

I have a feeling Eva is going to be bad for everyone's livers. She keeps cheering us on, goading us into round after round, until Kenji is just howling, 'Tequila!' over and over again, Grayson is lecturing us about the importance of savoring old scotch, and Poppy can't stop telling me that I'm her best friend _ever,_ which makes Eva get all teary eyed. Oh, and Dax is definitely saying some nonsense that makes him sound like he's in a really pretentious cologne commercial, until he gets on the subject of spherical cookies being demonic. Finally, when Kenji nods off at table, only waking up when his head hits, he admits that it might be time to call it a night. One by one, my friends start to drift off to call for rides, until only Eva and I are left. At which point, she kicks me under the table.

“Ow!”

“Aww, did that hurt? I guess I mistook you for Dragonness.”

“Very funny. Why'd you kick me?”

“This is the most fun night I've had in a long time.”

“...So you decided to kick me?”

“...I don't really want it to end.”

“Oh, I see. What did you have in mind?” She finds my hand under the table and covers it with hers.

“Would you let me walk you home?”

I chuckle. “Ahh, why the heck not. The walk would do me good.”

We finish our drinks and lean on each other for support as we weave our way through the crowd to reach the exit and step out onto the sidewalk. The summer night air is heavy and humid, and when I look up at the sky, I see why. The lights of the city are reflecting off a thick cover of clouds.

“Think we might get rained out,” Eva observes.

“Guess we'll just have to walk fast.”

“Lead the way. I assume you know your way home from here?”

I consider for a moment, then point up the street. “This way. We can go through downtown Bayside to get to Georges Park.”

Eva falls into step with me as we walk, hooking her arm through mine. “You know, I hear this area can be kinda rough. I'm glad I've got a real life superhero here to keep me safe.”

“After today, I'm pretty sure you're the one the criminals should steer clear of.”

“Maybe so.”

We walk in silence for a few blocks. As we turn onto a broad, car-lined street, a light mist from the clouds overhead turns into a steady sprinkle. After a couple more blocks of silence, I turn to Eva.

“A penny for your thoughts?”

“Oh, I guess I spaced out there for a second, huh?”

“Kinda.”

“Sorry. I do that sometimes.”

“Everything okay?”

“Fine. It's just...I dunno. It's stupid. But...meeting all your friends made me kinda...jealous.”

“How so?”

“You've all go these fun, fulfilling lives and jobs that you actually care about. Plus you have each other. I really don't have any of that. I've...lost touch with people since my dad got sick. Suddenly, all my friendships just seemed shallow. Like I couldn't really talk to them about what I was going through.”

“For what it's worth...you can talk to me.”

Eva turns to me, a small smile playing across her lips. “Yeah. I think I can.”

The rain starts to pick up as she holds my gaze. “I think we should hurry before this rain gets any worse.”

“Oh, don't mind that.” The air around us ripples and shimmers, and suddenly all the raindrops hang frozen in midair. “No need to rush.”

“Guess not,” I admit. I reach out to poke a raindrop with my finger. It bursts at the impact, tinier and tinier droplets spraying out in slow-motion.

“Pretty cool, huh? I never really appreciated how beautiful nature could be before I got my powers. Sometimes it helps to slow down and really look at the world around you.”

“Not everyone can do that literally, though,” I point out.

“Too bad for them.” We continue on our way, finally reaching my apartment a few blocks later.

“This is me. Thanks for walking me home.”

“I'm the one who should be thanking you, for taking a chance on me. ...You know the cops aren't gonna stop hunting me any time soon. But at least now I have the opportunity to explain myself. Not just to you, but to myself.”

“Yeah, well...I had a good feeling about you.”

“So what, you're psychic now, too?”

“Who's to say I'm not?”

“I think you have enough powers already, Tahira. No need to get greedy. ...I just wanted you to know that I'm grateful. For bringing me in and introducing me to your friends. It was nice.”

“...Welcome to the team, Eva.”

She sighs, smiling. “In spite of myself, I'm happy to be here.”

* * *

My phone wakes me up way too early the next morning. Early enough that it's still dark. Still, the light from the phone is like an icepick in my head. I guess I drank enough that even my Prism-enhanced body is feeling the effects. But I manage to read the caller ID. I thumb the green button and put the phone to my ear.

“Dax, it's really early,” I mumble, the hint of a whine in my voice. “This may not be the best time--”

_“Shut up!”_

“...Excuse me?”

_“Sorry, I didn't mean that. But seriously, shut up and listen! The decryption software just cracked Mayhew's hard drive. Tahira, you're gonna wanna see this. Mayhew wasn't just lying to save his own skin. Silas Prescott is behind everything!”_


	13. Revelations

The sky is shifting from black to dark blue with the dawn's approach as I race across town to the clocktower. Once there, I take the stairs two at a time with a little help from my flight powers. Dax and Poppy are already there when I arrive. Clearly, they're also feeling a little worse for wear after our night out, but they're also obviously distressed for other reasons. I don't waste any time getting down to business.

“Dax, what's going on? What was on that hard drive? What did you mean about Silas Prescott being behind everything?”

“Look at this...” He pulls up the contents of the decrypted hard drive on the largest screen. I take a step closer, the soft blue light of the monitor enveloping me. Dax clicks through file after file, bringing up top-secret blueprints, chemical analyses, and x-rays of the Prism Crystal.

“I...I don't understand. What am I looking at here?”

“You know how that shipment of Liquid Prism got stolen?” Poppy asks. “Well, it turns out it wasn't actually stolen.”

“I don't follow.”

“According to these documents, Silas paid those goons to come in and 'steal' the serum. That way he'd have plausible deniability when it fell into the hands of the city's criminals. Which is exactly where he wanted it to be.” Dax swallows, looking at me with fear in his eyes. “I think he's working with Stonewall, Tahira. In his communications with Mayhew, he offers to put him in touch with a superpowered associate of his with a paramilitary background.”

“So those guys guarding Mayhew Dynamics were Stonewalls guys.”

“Looks that way. If you ask me, they weren't just there to keep you out. They were there to remind Mayhew exactly who's in charge.”

I grimace. “Silas Prescott has always been an arrogant, power-obsessed creep. I should have guessed he was behind all of this.”

“If only we'd seen it sooner,” Poppy sighs. “He's building an _army_ Tahira. The question is... _why?_ ”

“World domination, presumably?”

“Knowing Silas, I suspect his plans are more nuanced than that,” I remark. “If only slightly.”

“Well, all we can do it guess for now. But if we had more insight into _why_ he's doing this, maybe we'd be better equipped to stop him.”

The wheels in my head are already turning. “...I think I may know someone who might have some answers. I'll be right back.”

“Where are you going?” Dax asks.

“Where I always go when I need some solid advice. ...I'm gonna talk to my mom.”

* * *

I take to the skies, flying across the city to my mother's apartment complex. It takes a few minutes of knocking at her door, but she finally opens it, blinking sleepily.

“Tahira? What time is it? Are you okay?”

“We...we need to talk, Mom. I need to talk to you now.”

Mom's maternal alarms are clearly going off as she steps aside to let me in. I come inside and immediately sit down at the small round table in the kitchen. The table where she use to serve me breakfast every morning and share milk and cookies with me every night before bed. Mom shuts the door and moves toward the counter.

“Is this the kind of talk I should make coffee for?”

“You decide. I need you to tell me everything about your time at Prescott Industries. And I need to know why you warned me to stay away from Silas Prescott.”

Mom abandons the counter to sink into the chair opposite me, her expression tight with worry. “...Why? What's happened, Tahira?”

“Please, Mom...I need to know.”

Mom looks down at her hands folded on her lap, and sighs deeply. “Never mind. I think I know why.” She raises her gaze to my face, giving me a long, searching look that makes me squirm. “...I'm going to tell you everything, Tahira. But...once I do...please... _please..._ promise you won't hate me.”

“Hate you? Mom, I could never--”

“Then promise. Please.”

“Mom, of course I promise...”

Mom lets out a shuddering breath. “...Twenty-five years ago, I was working with Silas Prescott on the first prototype of the Prism Gate. We knew that the Prism crystal had immense power, and we were eager to harness it. To use it for the betterment of all mankind. It wasn't just Silas' vision. It was mine too. I dreamt of a world where everyone was provided for. Where no one would ever go hungry. I thought if we could just find a way to capture the crystal's energy, we could do anything. Make our dreams a reality.”

She sighs again, her face clouded. “But...it wasn't that simple. We never stopped to ask ourselves _where_ all this energy was coming from. We just...assumed the crystal was the source. But over time, I came to suspect that the crystal was merely a conduit. And that the Prism Gate was, in fact, a portal. Occasionally, strange matter would...would _come through_ from the other side. At first it was just stray molecules. Then there was dust, and soil...even vegetation. None of it matched anything ever found on Earth.”

“So it was...from another planet?”

“Not just another planet. Another dimension. The atomic structure of these samples was unlike anything we'd ever seen.”

“How so?”

“They weren't carbon-based. They were... _Prism_ -based. I told Silas we had to stop. That we were meddling with things we didn't understand. But he wouldn't listen.”

“Why not?”

“To understand that, you have to understand the impact that Helena's death had on him. She was _everything_ to him. And when she died, he was never quite the same. He became obsessed with our work. With its potential. It wasn't just about energy application anymore. It was about transcending nature itself. Unlimited energy was only the first step of his plan.”

“...Is that why you left?”

“Yes. And no. You see, Tahira...I was alone in the lab one night, running tests. And...something else came through the gate.”

“What was it?”

Mom's eyes lock with mine, filled with sorrow, as well as all the love I have known for twenty-five years. “...You, Tahira.”

My throat goes tight. I feel the blood rushing out of my head. “...I...what...?” My heart feels like it's trying to wrap itself around my lungs and wedge itself into my windpipe. The walls of the apartment seem to be pressing closer to me. I leap to my feet, knocking my chair over, but my knees are rubber underneath me. I collapse like a folding chair to the linoleum, my stomach threatening to rebel.

“Tahira! Honey, are you okay?” My mother rushes over to embrace me, but I recoil from her touch. I don't want her to touch me. I don't want anyone to touch me.

“...No...”

I lurch toward the door and stumble out into the hallway of the apartment complex.

“Tahira, wait! Please!” I can vaguely hear my mother's voice continuing to follow me, but it soon fades under the roar of my blood against my eardrums. My head feels like it's going to explode. I throw open the complex door and take to the sky, not even concerning myself with concealing my identity.

I think I might be crying. Thoughts tumble through my brain faster than I can make sense of them. Thoughts, and so many questions.

...What am I? What the hell am I?

* * *

Days pass in a blur. I spend them in my own apartment with the lights dimmed and the curtains drawn over the windows. I have the presence of mind to text Grayson that I'm sick, but that's as much as I can manage. I eat enough to keep myself alive. I use the bathroom when I have to. But beyond that, I sleep. I don't clean. I don't shower. I don't do dishes. I don't even change out of my pajamas. At some point, the fog starts to clear just enough for me to glance at my phone when it buzzes with another text. After a moment, I take it in my hand and scroll through my messages:

_**Grayson:** _ _Hope you feel better soon. We all miss you at the office. <3_

_**Kenji:** _ _yo! Where've you been? I need my sidekick!_

_**Eva:** _ _Stopped a bank robbery today. That felt weird, but thought you might like to know. Ps are you ok?_

I sigh, putting the phone back on my nightstand and pulling the blankets over my head again. How am I going to tell them? How can I tell anyone?

The fog lifts a little further the following morning, enough that I open my laptop to watch the news for a little while. I almost turn it off when the local news turns to an interview with Talos and Minuet, but something makes me keep watching.

“ _This dynamic duo just foiled an attempted robbery on an armored car. Anything to say to the fans at home, heroes?”_

Talos looks into the camera with his usual winning smile. _“Stay in school!”_

 _“Or don't,”_ Minuet says blithely. _“School's lame anyway.”_

_“She didn't mean that, kids! School is cool!”_

I feel a smile that creeps over my face and vanishes just as quickly. I shut the laptop and put it aside. It seems Northbridge is just fine without me. I nestle down between the sheets and go back to sleep.

It's getting dark by the time I'm awakened by another text, this time from Dax and Poppy in a group thread.

_**Poppy:** _ _hey, you know how you've been brooding in your apartment for days and not seeing anyone? That ends tonight, we're coming over!_

_**Dax:** _ _and if you don't open the door I have the necessary chemicals to blow it open!_

I can't help smiling a little at that. But then dread creeps into my belly. I don't know if I can tell them about this. But...knowing them, I won't have any choice. I don't want them to see me like this. The least I can do is take a quick shower. I'm just toweling off when the pounding at the door begins.

“Let us in! Let us in!” Poppy chants at the top of her lungs.

“Don't even try to hide! We can sit out here forever if we have to!”

“Hold your horses!” I call in a voice that sounds hoarse from days of disuse. “I was just putting on some clothes!”

I open the door and Dax and Poppy spill into the room, talking over each other in their eagerness to yell at me.

“Finally! Why haven't you returned any of our calls or texts?!”

“Grayson said you're sick, but you don't look sick!”

“For all we knew, Silas had captured you! Or worse!”

“Why is your place such a mess?!”

“Seriously, did you have a fight with a supervillain made of dirty dishes?”

“Guys, guys! I'm sorry, okay? I know I haven't been very responsive. But...I can't really explain why. I just...” I sigh. “Never mind. It's best if you just go, honestly. I'm just not in a hosting mood right now.”

“Too bad,” Dax says firmly. “We're not going anywhere.”

“Not until you tell us what's so awful that you can't share it with your best friends.”

“It's not that simple, Poppy. ...If I tell you...everything will change.”

Poppy rolls her eyes. “Tahira, I've known you since college, and you've been a superhero for a matter of months. I find it hard to believe anything could change things _that_ much.”

“You have no idea...” I wander over to the couch and plop down. Poppy sits down beside me.

“Go ahead, Tahira. We're here for you. No matter what. You got that?”

“Yeah...yeah, I get it. But don't say I didn't warn you.”

So I tell them. I tell them the whole story. It comes out of me in a rush, but Dax and Poppy listen patiently.

“So...that's everything my mom told me. Though...I guess she's not really my mom. I mean, I knew I was adopted of course, but this is...this is a whole other thing entirely.”

“So...let me get this straight,” Dax says. “You've been sitting in your apartment alone for days, ignoring your friends and feeling sorry for yourself, all because you're an _alien?”_

I roll my eyes. “Very sensitive, Dax.”

“Tahira, I would be thrilled to learn something like that! For one, if what your mom says is true, this is undeniable proof that aliens are real!”

“Dax, seriously!” Poppy chides.

“Plus, if I were an alien, I would finally understand why I'm so weird and awkward.”

“Look, I'm not an alien!” I snap. “My mom says I was from another dimension.”

“Well, that's even better! Now we have proof that alternate dimensions are real!”

“Dax, this isn't making me feel better.”

“I'm sorry! It's just...this is huge! The scientific ramifications alone are--”

“Dax! Tahira doesn't want to hear about the scientific ramifications of anything right now!”

Finally Dax's face falls. “...Sorry. I guess I got a little carried away...”

“Yeah, a little.”

Poppy sighs and touches my shoulder. “Look, I can see why you were nervous about sharing this. And I understand why you think it changes things. But it doesn't. At least not for me. So what if you come from another dimension? That's not what I see when I look at you. I don't even see a superhero. I see my best friend. Same as I always have.”

That does manage to put a little smile on my face. “...Thanks. I...probably should have known that...that you wouldn't have been scared or freaked out or anything. It's just that... _I_ am. It's like everything I thought was true just...isn't. I don't even know who I am anymore.”

“Of course you do! You're Dragonness! Now, clearly there's more to you than we previously thought. And naturally, I'm intrigued by the concept of a Prism dimension. But I'll tell you what I always tell myself when I'm trying to fall asleep and start worrying about the veracity of lived experiences in the context of a limitless multiverse.”

Poppy and I blink at Dax. “...What?”

“I mean, it's already terrifying that time and space are infinite. If there are also infinite dimensions, well...what is the point in doing anything ever? … Do you guys not worry about that?”

“Not before today...”

“You mean not before I brought it up, or not before you learned you were from another dimension?”

“Both, I guess.”

“Okay, Dax, maybe skip the nihilism and get to the words of comfort?”

“Right! Basically, this is your life. You grew up here in Northbridge. Rochelle Rogers is your mom, and Poppy and I are your friends. Who cares if there are other dimensions? Who cares that this isn't the one you were born in? This is where you've lived the majority of your life. As far as I'm concerned, that makes this dimension, this planet, this country, this city...your home.”

“Whew, I'm glad that ended up going somewhere,” Poppy remarks. “I got a little worried for a moment.”

“That...was actually really comforting,” I admit. “I mean, I got a little lost for a moment, but I got there in the end.”

“Well, Glad I could help.”

“So you're feeling better?”

“Starting to. ...I'm sorry again for being so evasive.”

“Hey, this is a lot to absorb. I can't blame you for wanting a little space.”

“And you let us in eventually. That's what matters.” Poppy pulls me into a tight hug. “Get in here, Dax!”

“Oh! This is a group hug. Incoming!”

Squished between Dax and Poppy, I can't help laughing. “Hey! Give me some room to breathe!” Finally, they pull back.

“Group hug achieved!” Dax declares.

“Well done, team!”

I roll my eyes. “You're both dorks and you deserve each other.”

“So...if you're done moping around in here,” Poppy says, “I know there are some people out there who would really like to see you.”

“Yeah. ...There are some people I'd like to see, too.”

* * *

By the next morning, I'm feeling strong enough to leave my apartment. I text Grayson, who asks me to meet him at The Grand. I grab a train to Bayside, and walk a few blocks to the club. The walk does me some good as I soak in the summer sunlight. Grayson is waiting outside for me when I arrive.

“Hey, Tahira. The show's starting in a few minutes.”

“The show? Who's playing this early?”

He grins. “The Bayside Elementary theater department.”

“At The Grand?”

“After renewing my commitment to help the people of Bayside, I thought a pivot was in order. I've opened The Grand up as a multipurpose facility by day. Bake sales, charity initiatives, community functions, anything the people of the city need.”

“That sounds like a great idea. It's very...you.”

“I'm not sure I know what you mean.”

“You always go out of your way to help other people.”

A blush creeps across his face. “I...well...Thank you.” He clears his throat. “Anyway, today it's being used for a local school play. They invited me to come along for an introduction speech. I'm not sure how you feel about theater, but I hope you'll enjoy the show all the same.”

“Lead the way.”

Inside, the chairs are arranged in rows before the stage, which is filled with props and a painted city backdrop. Grayson leads me to a front row seat.

“I'll be right back.” He mounts the stage, and a school teacher hands him the microphone. “Good afternoon, everyone. Welcome to The Grand. To the parents, welcome. To our performers, I know how tirelessly you must've worked to make this happen. Just don't forget to have a good time up there, okay? Now please give a warm round of applause for Bayside Elementary's 'Saving Northbridge'!”

The crowd applauds as Grayson takes the seat next to me, and a pigtailed little girl steps onto the stage.

“In 1866, a bridge was constructed across the bay, and our city's founders struck ground on the other side. They said, 'We will call this town Northbridge'.”

Children with fake mustaches and homemade costumes pantomime the building of a city and different scenes throughout Northbridge's history.

“It has grown over the years into the city we know and love. But today, the streets are full of criminals. Evil lurks around every corner.” The narrator continues as kids in burglar masks pretend to rob a cardboard bank. “But don't be afraid. Because Dragonness will protect you!”

I feel my breath catch as another little girl with dark hair emerges from offstage in a hand-crafted version of my supersuit, complete with a lopsided mask. I feel tears filling my eyes as the mini Dragonness fights villains against a backdrop of flames painted in red and orange. The narrator gestures to the scene.

“Dragonness stepped forward to save the people of Northbridge from crime and disaster. But behind the mask, she is a real person like you and me. It's not powers that make Dragonness super. It's the courage to do what's right!”

I applaud with the rest of the crowd as the little actors take their bows and parents leap up to congratulate them. In the commotion that follows, Grayson leads me over to the bar, where they've set up lemonade, milkshakes, and light snacks. I get myself a glass of lemonade and fiddle with the straw between sips.

“You okay?” Grayson asks. “You seem a little distracted.”

“I'm...not really sure how I feel,” I admit. “...Sorry, I guess that cold did a number on me. I'm still shaking off some of the blahs. Plus...if I'm honest, things between me and my mom aren't at an all-time high right now...”

Grayson covers my hand with his. “What happened?”

“I found out she's been keeping a lot of things from me about my past. About...my birth parents. I...don't really want to go into details, but I feel like a rug's been pulled out from under my feet. I just...I always thought we weren't the type of family to keep secrets, you know?”

“I understand. But...knowing your mom, she probably really thought she was doing what was best for you.”

“I guess so. I mean, the last big fight I remember us having was when she wouldn't let me stay out past midnight after the 8th grade Winter Wonderland dance.”

“Which is already a testament to the kind of parent she is.”

I smile weakly. “You're probably right.”

“After the gala attack, Rochelle and I were in the hospital waiting room together. She tried to put on a brave face, but I knew she was worried sick.”

“Sounds like her.”

“But instead of me comforting her, it was the other way around. She assured me you'd be okay because of what we both see in you.”

“Which is?”

“Courage. Strength. Kindness. Take your pick. You have plenty of each.”

“I don't think it was kindness that saved me from being crushed by concrete. But thanks. That's really nice to hear.”

“I hope you know that I'm here for you, Tahira. Anything you need.”

I'm about to answer when Skylar approaches from behind the bar and places two vanilla milkshakes in front of us.

“A thank you to Mr. Prescott and friend. From the lady of the hour.” Grayson and I look where he's pointing to see the little actress in the black supersuit, surrounded by her family and friends.

“If there's anyone in this city who deserves a play written about them, it's Dragonness,” Grayson remarks.

“You think so?”

“Absolutely. To be honest, the city's felt a little off the last few days since she hasn't been around.”

“I don't know,” I reply a little glumly. “Northbridge seems to be doing just fine.”

“Well, Talos and Minuet have been active. But for my money, Dragonness is more than just a superhero. She's a symbol. She was the dark horse who didn't jump into the spotlight like Talos did, but she earned her place there, and people respond to that as much as what she does. That's a big responsibility for one person. Behind that mask, she's probably balancing a ton of things, just like the rest of us. A job, family, friends, hobbies...just think how exhausting that must be.”

“Seems like you've thought about this a lot.” I feel a teasing smile creep across my lips. “Should I be jealous?”

“Maybe just a little,” Grayson teases back. He smiles and leans forward, and I let my mouth press to his. He raises a hand to stroke my cheek. After a moment, he pulls back. “Family-friendly area. We should be cautious.”

“Right. Almost forgot.”

He presses a kiss to my forehead. “Unfortunately, I have a meeting to get to. But I'm glad you were able to join me for this. Are you feeling better?”

“Yeah. I think I am. At least a little. Thanks for this.”

Grayson heads off to his meeting, and I linger for a little while longer, finishing my milkshake. The sweet, cold treat seems to give me a little extra courage, and I dare to text Kenji and let him know that I'm still alive. A few texts later, we've agreed to meet up.

He's not there when I arrive at the designated street corner, but within moments, the roar of a motorcycle catches my attention, and I look up to find Kenji skidding to a stop at the curb in front of me.

“Hop on!” he orders, urgency in his voice as he thrusts an extra helmet at me.

“What's wrong?”

“No time to explain! Just get on!”

I climb on a little reluctantly, slipping the helmet on and wrapping my arms around his waist. He pulls away from the curb, and we race through the city until we finally pull to a stop outside a building downtown. Kenji hops off the bike and beckons me to follow.

“Is there trouble? If you need Dragonness, I'm not sure...”

“No time for that now!” he insists. “We have to hurry!”

I sigh, and follow Kenji inside...only to find a lavish dining room filled with tables adorned with flowers and fine china. Kenji speaks to a hostess and turns back to me, beaming.

“Great news! They have a table for us! I thought we were going to be too late!”

I blink at him. “What...what is all this?”

“It's high tea! You know, tea, but way fancier? Scones, mini-sandwiches...the whole nine!”

I try to search for a response. “Well, this is...nice. Weird, but nice. Everything is so refined and fancy!”

“Well, I'm glad you don't think it's irredeemably weird.”

“I do have to ask...why high tea?”

“It's something my mom used to take me to all the time.”

“DA Meiko Katsaros likes fancy tea?”

“That's an understatement. You should see how excited she gets over a good Earl Grey.”

I shake my head, chuckling bemusedly. “You learn something new every day.”

He grins, gesturing with a playful bow. “Shall we?” The hostess leads us to a table set for two, and Kenji pulls out my seat for me. “If I may make a recommendation, the Darjeeling here is excellent.”

I laugh. “You're really getting into this, aren't you?”

“Oh, I don't do anything by half.”

So I've had a milkshake for breakfast, and crazy-fancy tea with the best mini-quiche I've ever tasted for lunch. I tell Kenji about the play I saw that morning. I also quietly admit what my mother told me. To his credit, he takes it in stride, though the story is easier to tell the second time. And then conversation drifts to neutral topics, and I feel my spirits rising again.

“I gotta hand it to your mom. High tea is better than I ever thought it could be.”

“I'm just glad to see you finally smiling. I know you've been kinda...” He trails off, frowning as he lifts a finger to his ear. “Hey...I, uh...just remembered something...”

I sigh. “Let me guess. It's Dax.”

“How'd you know?”

“Who else would you be listening to via hidden earpiece?”

“Oh. Right. ...There's some trouble just a few blocks away. I gotta go.” When I reluctantly rise from my seat, he waves me back down. “It's okay. I can handle this.”

“...But...”

“It's okay, Tahira. Really. You've done enough.”

He drops a wad of cash on the table and dashes out of the building. I can't help but feel my good mood draining away. For all Grayson's confidence in Dragonness, if even my teammate is trying to bench me...

But something makes me stand up and follow him. Outside, I can already hear police sirens just a few blocks away. I follow the sound a few blocks to a bank, where a ring of police cars encircle a masked thug brandishing a gun. I watch from the distance as Talos charges out of the crowd of bystanders and up to the robber. Bullets spark off his bronze body as he rushes in. He strips the weapon from the criminal's hand and slams him with a knockout punch. I have to admit I'm impressed with the speed of his takedown. Within moments, the cops rush in to cuff the guy, and news crews flock to surround Talos.

“Talos! Talos! You've just stopped yet another crime! What is this, the tenth this week? Do you have anything to say to the people of Northbridge?”

But Talos just gives a half-hearted wave to the news crew as he rushes away from the scene. “No comment today. Sorry, folks.”

I separate myself from the crowd, and within a few minutes, Kenji finds me, back in his human form.

“Tahira! Hey!”

“Nice work back there. Looks like you've really got your hero act down.”

He shrugs. “Just another day in the life, right?”

“Well...not everything was the same. ...Not long ago, you would've jumped at the chance to boost in front of those news cameras. But you barely gave them the time of day.”

He sighs heavily. “I'm just tired. The super-crew has been busy lately.”

I feel my shoulders slump. “...Picking up my slack.” I shake my head hard. “It's not that I don't want to help. It's just...putting on the mask feels different now. Everything feels different.”

“Look, I get it. There was a moment, after the opening of The Grand and the fight with Caleb...I was a success as Talos, but a failure as Kenji, as a club manager, as a son...it's asking a lot of anyone to go out there and put everything on the line. This hero life...it's a choice. It's gotta be.” He puts a hand on my shoulder. “That's why I said I'd take care of this. I wanted to give you a normal, peaceful day. Everyone deserves a chance at peace. Especially you.”

“...I don't even know who I am...”

“Really? Because I do. You're the one who taught me what it means to be a real hero. Not just how to fight the good fight, but _why._ I'll keep on fighting so that you don't have to, if that's what you want.”

“Thank you. For that sentiment, thank you. But...I should be able to do the same for you. And...to be honest, it didn't feel totally right, watching from the sidelines. So much of me wanted to jump in.”

“So...does that mean...?”

I nod. “...I think so. I'm still kinda reeling from everything. ...But I'm starting to think part of figuring out exactly who I am is going to involve letting myself be Dragonness. ...And I think Northbridge needs me to be Dragonness, too.”

“Hell, yeah, Northbridge does. In that case, I look forward to a formal reunion between Talos and Dragonness. ...And Minuet, of course.”

“Speaking of Eva, I should probably let her know I'm back in the world...”

“Yeeeah...good luck with that. Apparently, she told Dax she was going dark for a day...and then she turned off her com before he could ask any more questions.”

I frown, my mind immediately leaping to her father in the hospital. “...I hope everything's okay. I'll shoot her a text. She can respond when she's ready. Lord knows she's been patient enough with me these last few days.”

* * *

To my surprise, Eva actually answers my text pretty quickly. She's going to a little party, apparently, and she would love for me to join her. She gives me an address to meet her at, and a time later that evening. I spend the in-between time giving my apartment a proper cleaning. After showering and putting on fresh clothes, I head out to meet her. My address leads me to a lavish house in Northbridge's hilltop district. I climb the steps and ring the doorbell. When no one answers after a few minutes, I knock on the door. To my surprise, it's unlocked, and it swings open at my touch. I cautiously step inside.

“Hello?”

“Tahira! You made it!” Eva, wearing her stealth suit, appears in the foyer.

“I did. But...you said you were inviting me to a party?”

“I am. _My_ kind of party.”

Abruptly, I realize that the house is completely deserted. At least, what I can see of it is, and my instincts are telling me that Eva and I are the only ones here.

“Eva? ...Why are you wearing your suit?”

“Oh, you mean this stealth suit? Simple. I'm a thief.”

“What?!”

Eva dangles a lumpy satchel over her shoulder. “You see, there was never an actual party. Upstairs, there is a spoiled heiress who is about to discover that all the diamonds are missing from her safe.”

“Eva, this is insane! You can't do this!”

“Of course I can. And I'm gonna get away with it too. Unless of course...you can _stop me._ ” A furious scream from upstairs pierces the air overhead. Okay, so it seems I wasn't right about us being alone in the house. Eva cocks her head, smirking. “That's my cue. Catch me if you can!”

She darts past me, bailing out the door. “Wait! Stop!” I sprint after her, following her down a bustling city street, where she disappears into the fold of the thick crowd. “Damn it, Eva!”

I barrel into the crowd, pushing though the mass of people, muttering apologies as I elbow them aside. I finally reach a clearing and spot Eva up ahead, shooting me a mocking salute as she ducks into an alleyway.

“Keep up, Tahira! I can hear police sirens!”

I sprint into the deserted alley and charge toward Eva. “Stop right there!”

“Make me!”

She pulls her grappling hook launcher from her belt and launches a line up to the roof of the building behind her. With a click of a button, the device pulls her skyward. I react reflexively. Secure in a lack of witnesses, I shoot up from the ground in hot pursuit.

“Ahh, now there are the Dragonness powers we know and love!” She vaults onto the top of the building, and I touch down to meet her on the rooftop.

“Eva, please! Stop! Why are you doing this?!”

“Why am _I_ doing this?!” she demands, her expression suddenly angry. “Because I wanted you to remember who you _are!_ A hero who stops people like _me!_ At least, people like the person I used to be!”

I pause for a moment. “Do you mean...you're not going to keep those diamonds?”

Eva drops the satchel at her feet, smiling ruefully. “No. I'm not. This isn't about money, Tahira. It's about you and me. And you inspiring me to be better.” Her expression darkens again. “You disappeared without any kind of explanation! I haven't heard from you in days!”

“I'm sorry, Eva. I've...I've been figuring some stuff out. I'll explain later. I promise.”

Eva takes a few steps forward, her eyes fixed on my face. Then she throws her arms around me, gripping me tightly. “That's all I wanted.”

I wrap my arms around her, giving her a squeeze. “So you'll return the diamonds, right?”

“...Still hung up on that?” She steps back, picking up the satchel again. “These diamonds are really valuable. What's in it for me?”

“...How about a promise that I won't disappear again?”

She smiles. “Yes. I think that will do. Provided you keep that promise. You can't go disappearing on me again, okay?”

“I won't. Promise.”

“In that case, I'll return these diamonds to their...legal owner. See you around, Dragonness. Good to have you back.”

She turns on her heel and makes a running leap off the edge of the rooftop, disappearing into the night.

So, I guess this is it. Dragonness really is back. _I'm_ back. ...And it feels good.

* * *

Returning to the clocktower for the first time in days, I feel a weight lifting off my shoulders. A little ironic, since I am reclaiming the mantle of Dragonness, with the weight of all the responsibility it carries. But it really does feel like coming home.

“How does it feel?” Dax asks. “Being back, I mean.” \

“...It feels right.”

“Of course it does,” Poppy says. “You're a hero, Tahira. You're _our_ hero. Nothing can ever change that, remember?”

“I will. But enough about the past. It's time to look forward.”

“Sure thing, boss. What's the mission?”

“What else? Stopping Silas Prescott before he can take over Northbridge.”

“And what if he doesn't want to be stopped?” Dax asks.

“Then I'll make him wish he'd never messed with my city.”

“Oooh, I think I just got chills,” Poppy says delightedly. “Dragonness is back, baby!”

“You bet I'm back. It's time to suit up. I'm gonna go have a word with my boss.”

* * *

Feeling at home again in my supersuit, I fly across the city toward Prescott Industries, the moon rising behind the gleaming golden tower where Silas awaits.

_“You got this, Tahira. Poppy and I will be right here if you need any intel.”_

_“Be careful in there, though. He could have some of his superpowered henchmen with him for all we know.”_

“I'll be careful,” I promise. I'm coming up on the tower. I see myself reflected in the glass as I streak toward the window of Silas Prescott's top-floor office. With a resounding crash, I bring my legs up in front of me and kick straight through the glass. I land in a crouch amidst the scattered spray of glass shards, and draw myself up to my full height, my hands balled into fists at my side.

“Silas Prescott...we need to talk.”

_“Holy crap, Tahira! That was awesome!”_

But Silas, seated at his desk, holds up one finger for silence as he finishes reading a memo in front of him. Finally, he looks up, his expression faintly amused.

“I hope we're going to talk about how you plan to compensate me for my broken window.”

“That's not exactly what I had in mind.”

“Well then. What would you like to discuss?”

“Why don't we start with your plan to use 'stolen' Liquid Prism to build yourself an army of supers and take over the city?”

“Ahh, yes. That. I figured you'd come after me eventually. In fact...I counted on it. _Tahira._ ”


	14. A Prisoner's Dilemma

I feel my feet rooted to the floor. My breath is shallow. “How...how did you...?”

“You're wondering how I guessed your 'secret identity'? Don't be naive, Ms. Rogers. Nothing happens in this city without my knowing about it. You think I didn't notice that all of this started when you touched the Prism Crystal? That it reacted specifically to _you_? Perhaps no one else made the connection, but I did. And I grew suspicious. And you have just confirmed my suspicion.”

I manage to get my breath back. “Congratulations. But no one will believe you.”

Silas scoffs, waving a hand dismissively. “Oh, don't worry. I don't intend to tell anyone your little secret. As long as you don't share mine, that is.” He narrows his eyes. “And if you do, well...it'd be a shame if something were to happen to your friends, wouldn't it? To your mother?”

Angry fire surges through my veins, and I take a menacing step toward him. “You lay a finger on any of them, I will make sure you pay _dearly_.”

“Good. I welcome the challenge.”

He reaches into his jacket and pulls out what looks like some kind of small gun. A moment too late, I realize it's an injector gun, modified to hold four syringes, and each one is filled with bright pink Liquid Prism.

“No!” I yelp. But I'm not fast enough to stop him from putting the barrel to his forearm and squeezing the trigger. Four vials of Liquid Prism flow into his veins.

 _“Oh, crap!”_ I vaguely hear Poppy's panicked voice through my mask communicator as Silas doubles over in pain, gritting his teeth.

“I...suppose I...should thank you...I've been dying...for the opportunity to test my new powers...against a _real_ challenge.” I can't help retreating a few steps as his body recovers from the initial injection and he straightens, his eyes wild above a hungry smile. “Just don't disappoint me.”

In spite of my racing heart, I stand my ground. “Don't worry. I won't. And by the way? _I quit!”_

I fly at Silas with my fist extended. But before I can make contact, his left hand shoots up between my fist and his face, catching it in mid-air and immediately halting my flight. I grit my teeth, straining against him, but this is like when I caught the car at the warehouse. Except this time, I'm the car. Silas smirks.

“I have to say, I'm already disappointed. I suppose I'd better make this quick.”

With just a flick of his wrist, Silas flings me across the room like a ragdoll. I hear the stone wall crack with an impact that knocks the breath from my body and sends violent tremors through to the marrow of my bones. I sink into a crumpled heap on the floor, gasping. I turn my head with agonizing effort to see Silas approaching, shaking out his wrist.

“That is some quality stuff. Hazel really outdid herself.”

 _“Come on, Tahira,”_ Dax whispers. _“You can do this. You just need to get up.”_

I set my jaw and struggle to pick myself off the floor. Liquid Prism's effects are temporary. I just have to wait it out. I just...have to...get...up...

“You...won't get away with this!” I hiss. My legs are trembling beneath me. “If I don't stop you, one of my friends will!”

“I think not, Dragonness. If you can't stop me...” he shrugs, looking almost amused as he pulls back his fist for another blow, “no one can.”

 _“Get up, Tahira!”_ Poppy screams frantically. _“Tahira, please! Tahira!”_

I raise my head. The last thing I see is the tarnished class ring on Silas' right hand as it collides with my face. And then I don't see anything.

* * *

There's something soft underneath me. Soft and thin. And something hard underneath that. Like I'm lying on a mattress that should have been thrown out five years ago. As I cautiously open my eyes, I realize that isn't far off. I'm on a cot in a prison cell made of clean, white metal. A soft pink glow suffuses the room, emanating from...I gasp, sitting up sharply. Pain lances through my head and forces me down again, but I saw what was in the room just beyond the bars of my cell: the Prism Gate, fully restored. I'm still in my supersuit. I raise a hand to my face, and find my mask is still in place. I sit up again, slower this time, breathing through the screams of protest from my aching body.

“Ahh, you're awake,” a familiar voice drawls. “I was worried I'd knocked you out for good.”

I turn to glare at Silas, who smiles down at me through the bars. “You bastard!”

Silas ignores me, playfully flicking one of the bars with the nail of his index finger. “This ought to hold you. Can't have you spoiling the fun when I take over the city.”

“What are you talking about? Let me out of here!”

“Let yourself out. You're a superhero, remember?”

I realize he's probably toying with me, but I have to try. I grasp the bars, and when they don't electrocute me, I pull hard, aiming to tear them out of the wall. They don't budge. I grit my teeth and strain, but to no avail. Silas grins wickedly.

“Not so easy, is it? These bars are made of a proprietary Prescott Industries material fifty times stronger than steel. Something I've been sitting on for a few years actually. Figured it might come in handy one of these days. As it happens, it has an incredibly high melting point, too. Just ask my other captive.”

He steps aside, gesturing to an identical cell across from mine where Caleb sits seething on the floor. Seeing Prescott's attention turned on him, Caleb leaps to his feet and rushes at the bars, grabbing them in a fury.

“Let me out of here, you son of a bitch!”

Silas regards him with amusement. “Not yet, I think.”

Caleb roars with fury, summoning flames to his body. He throws a blast at the door of his cell, but the flames sputter harmlessly against the cold, white metal. Caleb drops back, looking exhausted. I can only guess how long he's been fighting his imprisonment. Silas chuckles.

“You really gotta get that temper under control, kid.”

“Shut up, old man!”

“Charming. Try not to bicker while I'm away, you two.”

“Where are you going?!” I demand. “Get back here and let us out!”

“I'm afraid I can't do that, Tahira. The mayor's holding a public assembly this week to address the rise in superpowered crime. And I intend to be there.”

“Why?!”

“Well, it's the perfect venue for me to make my debut as this city's absolute ruler, don't you think?” I glare at him through the bars, but I don't say anything. He raises an eyebrow. “What's the matter? Cat got your tongue?”

“No. I'm just glad you said that to my face.”

Silas snorts. “Come now, Tahira, give me some credit. Do you really think I wouldn't have found and disabled that little mask came of yours by now. ...Your friends can't see or hear anything that's going on here. You're alone. Well, except for your friend Caleb there.”

“That do-gooder and me are _not_ friends!” Caleb snarls.

“Well, then. I guess you'll have to keep yourself company, Tahira. Ta-ta for now.”

Silas sets off cheerfully, disappearing down the hall. The last I see of him is a smug smile as he raises his hand in a mocking wave. When he's gone, I let myself sink to my knees as despair saps the strength from my body. I can't reach Dax or Poppy. I can't reach Talos or Minuet. All I have is Caleb.

“Caleb!” I call. Caleb gives me the finger. “Caleb, I know we're as far from friendly as two people can be, but we gotta work together if we want to--”

“Fuck off, hero! We got nothing to talk about! I'm going to sleep. And when I wake up, hopefully, I'm somewhere else!” Caleb plops down on his cot, and rolls over to face the wall. I sigh letting my head drop back against the wall. Great. Perfect. What am I supposed to do now?

I must spend a few hours racking my brain for some kind of option. I stand. I pace. I sit. I stand again. And finally, I flop down on my cot in defeat. I am well and truly screwed here. I'm not strong enough to get out on my own. I hazard a glance at Caleb, but he's asleep in his cell. I suppose I can't blame him for not wanting to try getting out. He's probably been trying for...weeks.

I rub at my ears. They're starting to itch. That deep, fierce itch beneath my eardrums that happens when I've been clenching my jaw. I can never scratch it, but I can't help trying. I'm hearing voices. Soft, beckoning whispers just at the edges of my hearing. And at the edges of my vision, the fuchsia light from the Prism Gate starts to grow brighter. Enough to get my attention.

_“Be strong...”_

I sit up sharply. That was definitely a voice speaking words. “Who's there?!” I look over at Caleb, but he's still fast asleep. He's rolled over in his sleep to face me.

_“Don't give up hope...not yet...”_

“Who are you? Where are you?”

Another voice joins the first, and the pink light grows brighter still. _“We are far from you. Too far...for too long...”_

I rush to the bars of my cell and look across the room to see an undulating ripple disturbing the surface of the Prism Gate.

_“You've grown so much, child...it gives us such pleasure to see you again.”_

My heart drops and splashes into my stomach. It can't be... “...Are you...?”

_“Be strong for us, child. You have not yet reached your full potential...let us help you.”_

“Help me? Help me how--” I am interrupted by a bolt of pure, glowing energy that explodes from the mouth of the Gate. It singes through the bars of my cell and slams into my chest, throwing me back against the wall. It feels like electricity, setting off every nerve in my body. Sparks spray over the floor of the cell as the energy roils through me and supercharges my senses. Finally, the light ceases, and I fall to my knees, winded but full of adrenaline. I pick myself up from the floor and look down at my hands. They don't look any different. And yet...I can _feel_ the power radiating from my fingers. No more games. I am getting out of here.

I grip the bars with both hands. With one smooth motion, I rip them free of their moorings and fling them across the room. They land with a clang that startles Caleb awake.

“What the hell?!”

The light of the Prism Gate has faded. Its power has joined with mine now, I suppose. But I can still hear the voices calling softly from beyond.

_“Go now, and finish this. We have done all we can for you...for now. I hope we meet again someday...Daughter...”_

I nod toward the gate. “...Goodbye...Mom and Dad.” I sway on my feet, the surge of power leaving me dizzy. I pitch forward onto the ground.

“Hey...you okay?”

I look up at Caleb. “I...don't know. I just...”

“Suddenly went all glowy and ripped the bars of your cell clean off? Yeah. I saw. Now how about you give me a hand, huh?”

I get unsteadily to my feet. I feel kinda punch-drunk if I'm honest. “Would you quiet down for a second? I'm...feeling really weird. I think that power overwhelmed me. Maybe I'm not ready for that kind of strength.”

“Well, _get_ ready for it! 'Cause I need to get out of here!”

I straighten up and glare at Caleb through the bars of his cage. “I thought you weren't talking to me?”

“I, uh, had a change of heart.” He looks pleadingly at me. “C'mon, you're not really gonna leave me here with that maniac, are you?”

I sigh. “No, I'm not. No one deserves that.”

“Right. Least of all me.”

I grip the bars, trying to summon the strength I had moments before. But nothing comes. I still feel weak and shaky, no matter how hard I try.

“I...I don't think I can do it. I need to rest...”

“Well, you can't do that here! C'mon, go look at that control panel or something. Maybe there's a way to open this door.”

“Fine. Just...talk quieter.”

I search the control panel and find a button with a lock icon. I press my finger to it, and Caleb's cell whooshes open. He steps out, stretching.

“That's better! I've been cooped up in there for way too long!”

“Just don't get any funny ideas,” I warn. “We're getting out of here together or not at all, remember?”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever. I'll play nice just this once.”

I lift my head, casting my eyes absently over the computer screens in front of me as I summon the strength to move again. I find my gaze drawn to a series of video files...and to the date stamps from...twenty-five years ago? I scroll through the video thumbnails, and sure enough, I spot Mom in one of them. Almost unconsciously, I tap the video and it obligingly starts to play.

On the screen, Silas paces the lab in ecstatic glee while Mom examines the Prism Crystal under a high-powered microscope, frowning slightly.

 _“Where did you say you found this again?”_ she asks.

_“I didn't find it. Helena did. We spent our second honeymoon exploring the island of La Huerta in the Caribbean--”_

Caleb taps my shoulder impatiently, and I pause the video.

“Are we still getting out of here or what? Prescott could be back any second!”

“...Just give me a second to watch this.”

“Are you crazy?! We gotta go!”

“This is _important,_ okay? Just shut up and wait!”

“Fine! But don't blame me when Prescott shows up and puts us both back in cages!”

I don't answer that. I start up the video again.

_“--helping my old friend Everett survey the site for his new hotel. I was picturing a nice, relaxing vacation, but you know Helena. She jumps at any opportunity to muck around in old ruins, caves, that sort of thing.”_

Mom smiles. I'm struck by how young she looks...how happy. How young and happy they both look.

_“Well, what did you expect, marrying an archaeologist?”_

_“Ha! That's exactly what she said. So, naturally, we ended up exploring a system of underground caverns. There's some pretty strange stuff down there, under the earth. I don't think even Everett knows about it.”_

_“Let me guess...you just 'happened' to bring this crystal back as a souvenir and neglected to mention it to your host?”_

_“That's about the size of it. What he doesn't know won't hurt him, right?”_

Mom laughs and shakes her head. _“That's one way to look at it. Still, I'm grateful either way. This is a truly fascinating specimen. It's unlike anything I've ever seen before.”_

_“Right? This could be huge for us, Rochelle. Something tells me there's a lot we can learn from this crystal. We just need to find out how. That's where you come in.”_

_“Yeah, I got that.”_

Silas follows Mom over to another workstation as she prepares the crystal for a scan analysis. _“So, how's the whole adoption thing going?”_

_“Well, I'm past the first hurdle...the inspection and all that. And now we wait.”_

_“Any preference on gender or ethnicity or...anything, really?”_

_“No. Not at all. I just...I just want a child, I guess. Speaking of which, how is Grayson?”_

Silas laughs, running a hand through his hair. _“Very, very hyper. We can barely keep up with him. He tires Helena and me out like you wouldn't believe.”_

_“At least, going spelunking halfway across the world gave you a nice break, right?”_

_“If you can call that a break. But honestly, even a week was a little too long for my liking. We were both just so happy to be home with him again.”_

Mom smiles and leans back in her chair while the scan on the crystal begins. _“You three seem so happy. It's almost like a fairytale, or--”_

_“Or what?”_

_“I don't know. It's just...nice, is all.”_

_“Yeah. It sure is.”_

The video abruptly comes to an end, and I find myself staring at my own reflection in the black mirror of the monitor.

“Can we go now?” Caleb grumbles.

“Just...give me a second, would you?”

“What was all that crap about, anyway? Who was that woman?”

I shake my head a little, shrugging. No way I'm going to give Caleb my mother's identity. “Someone Silas worked with, I guess.”

“Well, if she tries to stop me from getting out of here, she's going down!”

“She doesn't work with him anymore. That video was from over two decades ago.”

“So? She could still work with Silas. What do you know about it?”

I sigh. “Never mind. Let's just get out of here.”

“You're the one who wanted to stick around so bad,” Caleb grumbles. I glare at him.

“And now I'm ready to go. So let's _go.”_

We hurry out of the prison and find ourselves at a forked hallway in a larger facility.

“What is this place?”

“Who cares?” I snap. “Let's just get out of here! Come on, this way!”

“I don't take orders from you!” Caleb protests. “I go where I want!”

Caleb darts in a different direction, only to freeze when a low rumbling sound thunders up ahead. It sounds like footsteps. A lot of footsteps. Caleb gulps.

“On second thought...I think I'll run your way.”

But his attempt to join me is interrupted by a door bursting open with enough force to nearly take it off its hinges. Stonewall steps through the doorway, smirking.

“Where do you think you're going?”

“We're getting the hell out of here!” I inform him.

“Yeah, I don't think so. Boys?” Troops flood into the room, boots thundering as they move to surround us.

“Run!” I shout to Caleb. He doesn't need to be told twice. We turn and sprint away. The troops flood after us as we flee, their footsteps punctuated by the heavy thud of Stonewall's boots.

“Crap!” I moan. “I don't know if I can fight all of these guys right now. I'm still recovering from absorbing all of that Prism energy. We need a smokescreen. Can you give us some cover?”

“On it!”

Caleb turns and whips out his hands, blazing a flaming swath across the floor behind us. Plumes of smoke rise up from the flames, leaving the troops stumbling and coughing. Caleb and I dash away, rounding a corner into a long corridor with a large door at the end. Reaching it, Caleb torques the handle, but it doesn't budge.

“Locked!”

I ram my shoulder into the door, and wince at the vibrations that pass through my body at the impact.

“I'm still not back to full strength. Caleb, I'm gonna need some help here. You need to cut through it.”

“What?!”

“I've seen you make a torch hot enough to cut metal before.”

“That was one time! You think I can just perform tricks on demand like a circus animal?”

The ground shakes as Stonewall apparently gets past the firewall and starts moving again. “Well, you gotta do it now!”

“Look, usually I gotta get angry to make my flame hotter, but right now I'm really just stressed and freaked out!”

“Oh, you need to get mad?! Why aren't you mad already, you pathetic sell-out?! You're just gonna roll over and submit to Silas and his men?! I thought you had principles!”

Caleb whirls on me with a snarl. “Of course I have principles! I'm a rebel! A revolutionary!” The tongue of flame in his hand slims and focuses into a brilliant, white-hot lance. With a roar, he stabs the flame and drags it through the metal, drawing a wide, molten, glowing circle. Stonewall rounds the corner, running at the head of his cadre of troops. I push Caleb aside and wind up. With what strength I have left, I punch the center of the circle, knocking a clean hole out of the metal.

“Not bad,” Caleb admits. “But don't think I forgot what you said!”

“Punish me later!”

We sprint through the exit as Stonewall roars angrily behind us. We alternate sprinting and me flying with Caleb held to my chest until we can't hear his furious screams anymore, and finally stop to catch our breath.

“I think we're safe.”

“Don't be so naive,” Caleb says flatly. “Nowhere in this city is safe so long as Silas Prescott's still out there.”

“I was speaking relatively. But you did well back there. We wouldn't have made it out without you.”

“Don't go reading anything into it. I was just watching my own back.”

“Sure. Me too.”

After a moment of silence broken only by our heavy breathing, Caleb straightens. “Welp. See you around, I guess.”

“You're leaving?”

“What's there to stick around for?”

“...You should join me.” My words almost surprise me. They clearly surprise Caleb, too. “You obviously have beef with Silas and Stonewall. Why not join our side?”

“'Our'? What is this, a social club? I'm not the team-player type. Loan wolf. Outsider. Got it?”

“I get it,” I reply seriously. “But this time's different. You said yourself nowhere in this city is safe as long as Silas is out there. The problem's only going to get worse if we can't stop it. If we don't stick together, we're _all_ going back in those cells. Or worse.” Caleb seems to be considering my words, so I continue.

“Besides, this is gonna be one of the nastiest battle royales in Northbridge history. Don't tell me that tag-teaming it doesn't sound like fun.”

Finally, Caleb's thoughtful expression melts into a smirk. “Hell, hero, when you put it like that, it doesn't sound half bad. Fine then. Call me up when there are skulls to crack. I'll be there.”

* * *

I fly back to the clocktower feeling like a bumble bee weighed down with pollen. I can't seem to get any height, and when I get there, the best I can do is take the stairs with just enough lift that I'm not actually using my leg and thigh muscles too much. As I approach the top, I can hear Dax yelling.

“Well, it's not like refreshing the video feel another million times is gonna help!” Then, softer, “Oh, Poppy...I'm so sorry. I shouldn't have--”

“It's not your fault. We're both worried. I shouldn't have snapped at you. I just...I hate feeling powerless, you know?”

“I know. I know exactly how you feel. Tell you what. This feed won't show us anything unless Tahira magically develops the engineering skills required to repair it. In the meantime, we'll have a better chance of spotting her the old-fashioned way.”

“The old-fashioned way?”

“By looking out the window. What do you say? Want to keep watch with me?”

“...Sure.”

I'm at the top of the stairs now, and I see Dax climbing to the upper level of the clocktower and offering Poppy a hand to help her up. They stand in front of the clocktower's glass face.

“Whew. We really should install a ladder or something.”

“Was that too much of a workout for you?” Poppy teases.

“No! Well...maybe.”

I hover just outside the tower room as Dax leans on the railing and Poppy looks out the window at the night sky. Something tells me I don't want to interrupt this yet.

“It's really beautiful tonight, don't you think? ...I wish Tahira were here to enjoy it.”

Dax tentatively puts an arm around her shoulder, giving it a squeeze. “She'll be okay. Promise.”

“You can't promise that, though.”

“Sure I can. This is Dragonness we're talking about, remember? I'm pretty sure she can handle anything the world throws at her. You'll see.” Poppy abruptly pulls Dax into a tight hug. “Woah! What's this for?”

“...For always knowing what to say. Well...almost always.”

“What do you mean—mmph!” He's cut off by Poppy pressing her lips to his in a gentle kiss. “...Poppy...”

“What did I just walk in on?” I drawl, finally revealing myself. Poppy and Dax leap apart, nearly falling off the balcony in surprise

“Uh, nothing!” Poppy squeaks.

“Nothing?!” Dax repeats incredulously.

“Okay, not nothing. I don't know why I lied. I got nervous.”

I laugh. “Deep breaths, Poppy. It's gonna be okay, I promise.”

“Would you stop smirking like that?!”

“Nope!”

Dax waves his hands frantically, as if searching for an appropriate gesture. “Never mind that! Tahira, where have you been?! How did you get away from Silas?!”

“We were so worried about you!”

“Well...long story short, Silas locked me up in some secret lab or something. The good news is, I got away. The bad news is...Silas is planning to take over the city during the mayor's speech this week. And it's up to us to stop him.”


	15. The Battle of Northbridge

I'm feeling faint again by the time I've told everything to Dax and Poppy. I sink down against the couch cushions as they crowd around me, their faces concerned.

“You okay, Tahira?”

“Yeah, you look kinda...beat.”

“I _feel_ beat. I've been feeling it since my birth parents helped me absorb the Prism Gate's energy. Ever since I tore the bars off the cell, I've felt...almost normal again. I'm feeling a little better now, but still not one hundred percent. And definitely not as strong as I was when I broke out of there.”

“Interesting. It seems that while your power has increased exponentially, your body hasn't quite come to terms with it. I'm guessing your body will adjust to the change soon enough, though. Hopefully in time to stop Silas...”

I grin a little. “Maybe while I recover, you guys can finally tell me what led to that kiss.”

They both blush furiously, and Dax's eyes go wide. “A-are you sure you want to hear about that? I mean, we still have so many questions for you...”

“I mean, you spoke to your birth parents!” Poppy points out. “That's huge!”

“Who cares?! You kissed each other!”

They glance at each other, trying and failing to suppress their smiles.

“Yeah...” Poppy says dreamily. “We did. It was nice.”

“Yup. Very cool. Would definitely do it again.”

“Same...”

“Maybe not right this second, though,” I suggest.

The thunderous chime of the clocktower sounding the passing hour makes us all jump. I glare at the glass clock face.

“I am _never_ going to get used to that part.”

“It's late, Tahira,” Poppy remarks. “You should rest.”

“Yeah. We need you in peak condition. We have all of tomorrow to train before the mayor's assembly the next day.”

“You expect Tahira to train all day tomorrow?!” Poppy yelps. “After what she's been through?!”

“ _Thank_ you, Poppy.”

“Of course. Besides, the world might end in two days. You should spend tomorrow spending time with the important people in your life.”

“...That certainly does put things in perspective...” I admit. “This might be my last chance to tell Grayson how I really feel.”

“Are you going to tell him about...you know, all of _this_?”

I sigh, shaking my head. “I can't. I can't put him at risk. I'll just try to avoid the subject. I'd rather we just enjoy the time we have before...well, whatever comes next.”

“That's probably for the best.”

* * *

There is someone else I think should hear from me before the big battle. Mom has clearly been trying to give me space since everything was laid out in the open, and I appreciate it. I still feel like I don't know what to say to her or how to feel about everything. But she did send me one text over these last few days:

_Tahira, I love you more than anything. You're my whole world. And if loving you means stepping back and letting you figure all this out on your own, then that's what I will do. Just know that I am always here for you. Just like I always was._

Lying in bed that night, I tap out several replies, trying to formulate a response that properly captures my hurt, my anger, my understanding, my love...and what I want from her. But the right words don't come easy, and this isn't a conversation that should be carried out over text. But the thought of having it face to face still terrifies me. Finally, I settle for a simple response. One that I know will tell her the only thing I really want her to know right now:

_I love you, Mom._

* * *

The following evening, I fly over to an address in the upscale financial district of Northbridge. Back on the ground, I stare up at the entrance of a lavish luxury apartment high-rise. I shouldn't be surprised that this is where Grayson lives. Still, it's hard not to be a little intimidated when I consider that he's seen my own meager living space. I'm studying the entrance, searching for a buzzer or something when Grayson appears to open the door for me.

“Tahira! You made it!”

I smile, stepping into the lobby. “Hey. Thanks for meeting with me on such short notice.”

“Of course! I hope rush hour traffic didn't give you too much trouble.”

“No, actually. I just flew right past it.”

“Lucky you.”

“You didn't have to come all the way down here to let me in, you know. You could have just buzzed me up.”

“We don't actually have a buzzer system. I mean, I suppose I could have called down to the doorman and had him show you up. But what kind of gentleman would I be then? Come on in.”

We take the elevator up to his floor, and he opens the door into a modern, well-furnished apartment.

“Here it is. Where I hang my hat. Where the heart is. Where the magic happens. All that jazz.”

“Very nice. I can't believe I haven't seen your place before now.”

“Well, you're always welcome. I was pleasantly surprised to get your call.” His bright smile falters and finally sinks as his forehead creases with concern. “But...you did make it sound urgent. Is everything okay?”

I shove my hands into my pockets, averting my gaze. “I just...I kinda have a feeling tomorrow is going to be a rough day...”

“Yeah? Why's that?”

“I don't know,” I lie. “It's just kind of a bad feeling.”

“Well...hopefully I can provide some good feelings to balance that out.”

I raise my eyes to offer him a weak smile. “Just being here is already helping. ...Bottom line is, I didn't want to be alone tonight.”

Grayson places his hands on my shoulders, searching my face. “...I think there's something more. Something you're not telling me.”

“What do you mean?” I ask, trying to sound innocent.

“I'm not totally oblivious,” he answers with a wry smile. “There's more to you than the Tahira I've seen. I know that much. I know it's not my place to ask, but I can't help wondering what it is you keep so secret...”

I sigh. “You wanna know the truth?” I lift my gaze, smirking. “I'm actually Stonewall.”

Grayson almost chokes on his laughter. “Tahira!”

“It's true. By day, I'm just your average twenty-something looking for love in the big city. By night, I'm a huge, burly supervillain made of stone.”

“All right, all right. I can take a hint. You don't have to tell me.”

“Sorry. I couldn't resist. In any case, the real details of my life are complicated and weird.”

“That's why I like being with you. The rest of the world is _complex._ Family drama. Cutthroat business deals. The supernatural happening in our city...” He raises a hand to cup my cheek gently. I lean into his touch and he runs his thumb over the body ridge beneath my eye. “But when I'm with you...I know that I care about you. I know I want to be with you. Everything is beautifully _simple_.”

“I...I feel the same way,” I admit softly.

Grayson gazes into my eyes for a moment, then his hands drop down to take mine gently. “Come with me? I want to show you something.”

He leads me into the next room, where floor-to-ceiling windows overlook a gorgeous view of Northbridge. Beyond the glass, a large deck with a hot tub glows under the night sky, steam rising from the water.

“A breathtaking view and a Jacuzzi. Is everything in your apartment amazing?”

“Well, I don't like to brag, but...I certainly think it is. Also, I had a feeling this might come in handy...” He gestures to a table, where a bottle of champagne chills in an ice bucket beside two glasses. “Can I offer you a drink?”

“You absolutely can.”

Grayson pulls out the bottle and pops the cork. He fills the two glasses, and passes one to me. “If we're going to spend this night together, we might as well make a celebration of it.”

“Cheers to that.” We clink glasses, and I take a sweet, bubbly sip. “Now it's shaping up to be a perfect night.”

“I know something that would make it even better.” He nods toward the deck, and the hot tub outside. “Care for a dip?”

“I don't have a bathing suit...”

“Ahh, right. I guess you probably don't want to get your underclothes soaking wet...”

I smirk. “I don't have to. If...you don't mind me skinny-dipping?”

His eyes widen slightly. “I...have absolutely no objection to that. At all. May I...?”

“Skinny-dip? I hope you will.”

Grayson opens the door, and we step out onto the deck. Grayson presses a button on the panel by the wall, and the jets start up as soft, warm lights flicker on under the water's surface. We both start to undress, and I try not to stare as Grayson peels off his shirt, revealing the toned muscle underneath. I don't really succeed. But then, neither does he. I catch him admiring my body as I slip out of my clothes, but I don't say anything.

We climb into the hot tub, and the blissfully hot water embraces me as I sink in. Grayson leans in close, the light illuminating his face from beneath dancing with the billow of the water's surface, and the lights of the city reflected in his clear blue eyes. I close the distance between us and capture his mouth with mine. His arms wrap around me, pulling me into his strong embrace.

“Grayson...” I whisper against his mouth.

“Tahira...” he breathes back.

“...Don't stop.”

“I won't.”

His touch grows bolder, firmer. His hands caress me as he takes hold of my hips and pulls me close. I wrap my arms around him, abandoning all restraint. Tomorrow will bring about the moment of truth. But tonight, I'm in Grayson's arms. Tomorrow, I will need to be Dragonness. But tonight, I'm Tahira. And I don't need anything else tonight except what I have right here.

* * *

Wrapped in a borrowed robe, my wet hair twisted back in a makeshift bun, I stand at the window again, my body still quivering pleasantly from my passions with Grayson. He stands behind me with a towel around his waist, arms wrapped around my chest and his chin resting on my shoulder.

“Hey...Tahira?”

“...Yeah?”

Grayson brushes my cheeks with his lips briefly. “I know there's something on your mind. And I know you can't tell me everything. But I want you to know that whatever it is, I'll be there for you. Today, tomorrow, and the day after that.”

I turn in his arms to meet his eyes, honest and kind. “I couldn't ask for anything more.”

I wrap my arms around his neck and lay my head on his shoulder. Over the city, dawn is breaking. It's up to me to make sure it has another.

* * *

“Biceps...check. Six-pack...check. Yup, I'd say I'm ready to go.”

From the couch in the clocktower, where I sit nursing a coffee, I smirk at Talos. “With a checklist like that, I half-expected to look up and see you still in human form holding a six-pack of beer.”

“Well, I did forget one thing.” He winks at me, stripping off his jacket and shirt. “That's better.”

Eva rolls her eyes. “You're unbelievable.”

“Thank you.”

“That wasn't a compliment,” Eva informs him, pulling a new grappling hook gun out of her holster. “Did you see the new toy Dax made me, Tahira?”

“No. What's different about it?”

“Watch and learn.”

Eva pulls the trigger, shooting a claw hook across the clocktower to latch onto the far railing. Then, she presses a button on the side of the gun, and blue-white lightning arcs along the steel cord.

“Woah! Not bad.”

“No fair!” Talos complains. “How come you haven't made _me_ anything, Dax?”

“Because I was busy making an upgraded supersuit for Tahira!”

I raise an eyebrow. “No joke? You didn't say anything to me about it.”

“Check it out!” He pulls out a garment bag to lay over the couch, and unzips it to reveal yet another sleek black suit with blue light up detailing. I examine it carefully, fingering the material on the sleeves.

“Not bad. Still strong and stylish, but it feels pretty breathable, too.”

“I helped!” Poppy declares proudly. “And I also didn't say anything to you about it.”

“You couldn't make me anything, but you made a grappling gun for Eva, _and_ a new super suit for Tahira?”

“It's not just any supersuit. This one has a pretty sweet new feature. I was realizing that Poppy and I can't always give you the best tactical advice since we're not right there with you in the thick of it. Plus, our brains are slow and human. Which is why I created an AI to offer you the most advanced possible battlefield support. Meet the world's first Machine-Augmented Recon Computer Intelligence. MARCI for short.”

“Marci, huh? So what does she do?”

“I'll let her explain that herself. Marci, are you here?”

A bright, high-pitched voice sounds from Dax's computer speakers. “Yes, I'm here! Actually, I was eavesdropping. Is that okay?”

“Yeah, that's fine. Why don't you tell Tahira what you can do?”

“Oh, right! Well, not to brag, but I can instantaneously analyze your immediate surroundings and recommend tactical solutions to enemies and environmental hazards. And I can provide real-time navigation assistance while you're traversing the city. Is that cool or what?”

She seems to be talking to me, so I answer her. “Yeah. It's super cool. You sound really human, by the way.”

“Dax says I'll learn faster if I'm emotionally invested in improving. So I'm really eager to get started! I'm not coming on too strong, am I?”

“No,” I assure her. “Not at all.”

“To be honest, I'm really not that experienced. I've never even left this room! It's okay if you don't want me around after all. I'll just stay here with Dax until I'm more ready.”

“Why wouldn't I want you around? You sound like you'll be really helpful. And you're honestly kind of adorable.”

“Yay!” Marci squeals. “Does this mean I get to go on my first mission? You really think I'm ready Dax?”

“Well, Tahira seems to think so.”

“I'm sure you'll be great, Marci.”

“I'll try extra hard to live up to your faith in me!”

“So, this seems like the place.” The new voice at the doorway makes us all jump. We whirl around to find Caleb in the doorway of the tower. “...Are we doing this, or what?”

I wince. “Oh, crap, I forgot to mention--”

Kenji rushes forward, but I grab his arm and hold him back. Dax glares at Caleb while Eva and Poppy exchange a wary look. Kenji strains against my hold, but he doesn't have my strength.

“What the hell is _he_ doing here?!”

“I think we'd all like to know that,” Eva agrees.

“It's okay, guys! He's here to help.”

“Here to help?!” Kenji yelps. “He nearly killed me!”

“You look fine to me,” Caleb observes, smirking.

“You think this is funny, you smug son of a--”

“Kenji, stop!” I snap. “Look, Silas had him locked up in the same prison he was keeping me in. I couldn't have escaped without his help. I'm sorry I forgot to mention, uh, any of this. But we can trust him. He wants to stop Silas as much as any of us.”

“More, probably,” Caleb says. “I was down there for weeks.”

“There, you see? Nothing to worry about. Now if everyone is satisfied, we can go stop Silas.”

* * *

It's a little after noon when Mayor Sandoval steps up on the platform erected in the center of Northbridge to address a crowd of thousands. My team and I watch from a rooftop nearby.

“Thank you all for joining me here today. I know this is a difficult time, and you want answers, so I'll keep this brief. Despite the best efforts of our police force, crime in our city is at an all-time high. And with the recent theft of Prescott Industries' so-called Liquid Prism, it's harder to fight than ever. I won't deny that we're all feeling the pressure. That's why District Attorney Meiko Katsaros and I have decided to try a new tactic. I'll let her take it from here.”

Meiko steps up to the microphone and clears her throat. “In the past, I was...skeptical of the superheroes cropping up throughout our city. Well, more than skeptical, really. I didn't trust them. More than that, I felt threatened by them. I've always believed that law enforcement should follow a strict protocol to ensure it serves the people and not itself. These rules keep us honest. They keep us from abusing our power, such as it is. From my perspective, superheroes like Dragonness and Talos had no such restraints. I've since come to believe that these individuals, at least, are honest enough to police themselves. Which is why I'm using this assembly to formally extend an olive branch to them. We can't do this alone. We need the help of superheroes to fight the rising tide of supercriminals.”

The audience erupts with applause and cheering at Meiko's words. My friends and I exchange startled glances.

“Wow. She's really changed her tune,” I muse.

“About time,” Talos says with a grin.

Meiko steps back as the applause continues, and Sandoval takes back the mic. “Thank you, DA Katsaros. Now, I'll try to wrap this up quickly so we can all--”

“Just a moment, Mr. Mayor,” Silas interrupts. “I wonder whether _I_ might have a few words? As you can imagine, I feel terrible that my company's product found its way into the hands of this city's worst criminals. I'd...I'd like to formally apologize, if I may.”

“Absolutely, Mr. Prescott. Of course, you can't be blamed for the actions of others...but the gesture is appreciated nonetheless.”

Silas steps up to the microphone, looking abashed. Around me, my team tenses.

“What's he doing,” Talos hisses.

“I don't know. But we can't just attack him outright.”

“Unfortunately,” Eva mutters.

“First,” Silas says, “I'd like to commend Mayor Sandoval and DA Katsaros on knowing when to admit defeat and ask for help. That takes...well, not courage exactly, but something like it.”

Nervous laughter ripples through the crowd, and Silas cocks an eyebrow.

“Too far? Sorry. Just...speaking my mind is all. See, if you ask me, your government isn't equipped to deal with the threats facing this city. And frankly, neither are the superheroes they're begging for help. How do I know this? Personal experience. I've already beaten Dragonness once before. Barely even broke a sweat.”

Confused murmurs run through the crowd as Mayor Sandoval approaches the podium. “Mr. Prescott, are you sure you're feeling--”

Before the mayor can take a step closer, Silas lashes out with one hand, sending out a blast of Prism energy that throws the mayor off the stage and into the crowd. I leap to my feet.

“That's our cue! C'mon!”

I swoop down toward the stage with my teammates following close behind. The assembled police train their weapons on Silas Prescott.

“Don't move, Silas!” Meiko shouts. “We've got you surrounded!”

“Is that so? I beg to differ...” Silas waves his hand lazily, and the cops' guns fly up out of their hands to hover overhead. As the crowd watches in astonishment, the guns quickly disassemble in the air. Spare parts and ammo clips rain down on the cops.

“What do we do now?” one of the officers cries.

“Pray that Dragonness saves us,” is the only answer Meiko can give. Her timing couldn't be more perfect. I touch down beside her and put a hand on her shoulder.

“Don't worry. I'm here to help.”

She opens her mouth to reply, but Silas cuts her off. “Starting today, this city's under new management! This is a hostile takeover!”

I step forward, my hands in fists. “Not if I have anything to say about it!”

Silas regards me with amusement. “I already beat you once. What's to stop me from doing it again?”

“I'm stronger that I was before. And this time, I brought friends.”

Talos appears beside me. “We're taking you down, Silas.”

“I wouldn't recommend resisting,” Eva says from my other side.

“Although it would make this more fun,” Caleb adds.

“Is all this supposed to scare me, Dragonness? I could take all of you out on my own if I had to. But as it happens, I brought a few friends of my own. Boys?”

At Silas's words, the street explodes upward in a spray of rubble. Stonewall and his henchmen storm up from the sewers while still more flood in from nearby streets.

“Sorry to keep you waiting.”

“Nonsense. You're right on time. Let's show these so-called heroes what our Liquid Prism can do!”

Silas reaches into his coat and pulls out his injector, loaded up with six vials. Stonewall's henchmen produce their own syringes and jab them into their wrists.

“Ohhhh, crap,” Talos groans, echoing our collective thought.

“Tahira...we can do this...” Eva says, though her voice quivers slightly. “...Right?”

“Only one way to find out,” I reply grimly.

Silas pulls the trigger on his injector—and then he transforms before my eyes. His eyes glow a searing, electric pink as his muscles ripple with barely contained power. The crowd screams as Silas levitates overhead, Prism energy radiating off his body in brilliant arcs of light.

“Behold! The next step in human evolution! Behold the face of true power!”

I watch helplessly as stray bolts of Prism carve through buildings and skyscrapers, destroying the city around us.

“Silas!” Meiko cries. “What have you done?!”

I whirl to face the DA. “Meiko! I need you to get the civilians to safety. Can you do that?”

“...Yes. You can count on me, Dragonness.”

“We'll stop Silas. Just focus on making sure no one else gets hurt.”

As I move through the crowd, I spot Grayson looking aghast as his father floats through the air, looking down on the gathered crowd with a smug smile. I can't resist reaching out to him, turning him around to stare into his eyes. He looks back at me dazedly.

“Dragonness!”

“Grayson, I'm sorry. I know this is crazy, but I need your help.”

“Anything! Anything...I have to make up for what my father's--”

“I know. So go help DA Katsaros get the civilians to safety. Can you do that for me?”

He nods. “I'm on it. I won't let you down! And...I'm sorry.”

“...I'm sorry, too.”

“What do you mean?”

“I...never mind. Just go.” I reluctantly let him go and turn to face Silas. “Enough, Silas! This ends now!”

“Indeed,” he purrs. “For you!” Stonewall and his men charge across the quickly emptying courtyard at me and my team.

“Dragonness!” Talos calls. “You go after Silas! We'll handle the goons!”

“Good luck!” I soar over the ruins of Northbridge and touch down amidst the wreckage of shattered skyscrapers. “Where are you?! Come and face me!”

A figure rises out of the smoke and fire, wreathed in chaotic energy. “I'm not hiding!” Silas snarls. “You're the one who's hiding. You've been hiding all your life.”

“What do you mean?! Hiding from what?!”

“From yourself! From who you truly are! You haven't even begun to comprehend the power within you!”

“Maybe not. But I know enough to finish this!”

“No, this is not the end. Soon you'll realize that this is only the beginning!”

Fast as lightning, Silas rushes at me, one supercharged fist pulled back and ready to strike. I pivot at the last second, crackling waves of Prism energy rolling off of Silas's body as he lunges past me. He shifts his stance and follows up with another swing. I just barely manage to duck under it, a bright trail of energy nearly singing my hair. I try to get an attack in, but his hands become a blur of superhuman speed, blocking my every move seemingly before I can even make it.

“Come on, hero! You'll have to do better than that! Show me what you're really made of!”

 _“Wow!”_ Marci chirps through my mask. _“Have you ever seen anyone move like that? I haven't! Of course, I've really only seen you, and Dax, and--”_

“I presume you have some actual advice for me?!”

_“Right! If you could slow him down somehow, that would be helpful!”_

“Well, I can't...but I know who can.” I take off, flying toward Eva as she swings one slowed-down henchman into another, their heads slamming together with a resounding thunk. “Minuet! A little help here?”

Eva turns with her grappling gun in hand and fires it at Silas. It latches onto his arm, sending electricity coursing through his body. She pulls herself toward him and delivers a flying kick to the side of his head. He swings wildly in retaliation, but she pirouettes out of his grasp and casts a hand out, ensnaring Silas in a slow-motion field.

“He should move at something like normal speed now!” she calls.

“Thanks! Get back to Talos! He needs a hand!”

Eva fires her grabbling hook again, coming to Talos's rescue as Stonewall and his cronies gang up on him. I lash out at Silas, unable to keep back a laugh of triumph as I finally make contact.

“That's more like it!” Silas crows delightedly. “But you're still not strong enough!” He soars overhead, grinning wickedly. He presses both hands together and unleashes a massive blast of pure Prism energy in a blazing fuchsia sphere. I throw myself aside just in time as the roiling ball of untamed energy screams past me.

_“You won't be able to get any closer to Silas if he keeps throwing energy like that! You should find cover!”_

“Talos, you're up!” I shout across the battlefield. Talos delivers a final blow to Stonewall's head, sending him face-first into the pavement, then dashes over and clambers onto the ruined stage.

“You rang?”

“I need my shield. Just like Dax's obstacle course.”

“Right. Get behind me and wait for an opening.”

I duck behind Talos just as Silas throws another blast of energy at us. It looks big, too big to avoid. But a shining bronze shield flashes up to block it. I look up in surprise to see Kenji's arm transformed into a literal gleaming shield.

“What the hell?! When did you learn to do that?!”

“Dax gave me the idea, actually. I just kinda reverse-engineered the process he used to heal me.”

 _“Holy crap, he's right!”_ Dax's voice comes through my mask. _“I was wondering if something like this was possible--”_

Another Prism blast detonates against Kenji's shield, knocking him off his feet. “Damn, this guy is strong!”

“Stop hiding behind your friends, Dragonness!” Silas roars. “Only you have the power to face me!”

Silas gathers his strength, channeling the Prism energy into a solid beam of concentrated force, and aims it at Kenji's shield. Kenji grits his teeth, straining to keep up his defenses.

“I don't know how much longer I can hold him! If you see an opportunity, take it!”

 _“That beam seems awfully unwieldy,”_ Marci points out. _“Hard to keep up, and harder to aim. Of course, I've never seen anything like it, so maybe don't listen to me. Or maybe do. I don't know, your call!”_

I roll out from behind Kenji's shield and spring into the air, soaring upward toward Silas. He tries and fails to shift the beam in time, and it carves wildly through the side of a nearby skyscraper. I'm on him before he can regain control, shooting up at supersonic speeds to deliver a punch straight into his jaw. I hit again before he can recover, delivering a flurry of body blows, finishing off with a spinning elbow to his face.

 _“You got him on the ropes, Tahira!”_ Dax cheers. _“Finish him!”_

I grab Silas' arm and spin him like a discus into the side of Prescott Industries, the glass facade shattering behind him.

“It's over Silas! Give up now, while you still can!”

But Silas grins at me, his hair matted with the blood seeping from his scalp. “Yes...yes! You're finally living up to your true potential!”

“...What do you mean, my true potential?”

“You think I don't know what you truly are?” He laughs mirthlessly, wincing with pain. “You're just like your mother, Tahira. She underestimated me, too. She thought I was only interested in harnessing the Prism Crystal's energy. She thought I didn't know the risks.” He laughs again, his voice growing more ragged, his breathing labored. “I knew. I knew there was a world on the other side of that gate. And I wanted in! But I couldn't get to it! I wasn't...strong enough! But soon I will be!”

He pulls a last syringe of Liquid Prism out and slams the needle into his vein.

 _“Holy crap!”_ Poppy yelps. _“How much of that stuff has he taken?! Is it safe?!”_

 _“I don't think so,”_ Dax says grimly. _“Tahira, be careful! If the Prism energy is too much for his body to handle...I'm not sure what'll happen. But you don't want to be there to find out!”_

Roaring with fury, Silas flies straight toward me, huge waves of energy billowing off him. He hammers at my defenses again and again, his entire body blazing with barely contained energy. I try to keep my guard up, but the power radiating from his fists is too strong. I distantly hear myself crying out as he hits me again and again, until I can barely fight back. He grabs me by the front of my suit and pulls me straight down.

“Come on, hero! Show me what you're made of!”

The two of us fall together, Silas landing on top of me as he slams me into the asphalt below. The street splinters beneath me, my bones shuddering with the impact.

“Dragonness!” Minuet's cry reaches me from somewhere out in the battlefield.

“You get away from her!” Talos roars.

“You can't take all of us!” Caleb adds.

My friends are trying to get closer, but Silas keeps them at bay with a towering wave of energy. Then he whirls on me, his eyes blazing with light, his face contorting with the power inside him.

 _“Warning!”_ Marci yelps. _“Prism energy levels unsafe! I think this guy is gonna blow, Tahira!”_

“What?! What do you mean?!”

 _“She's right!”_ Dax cries. _“If my energy readings are correct, Silas is about to go supernova! The resulting explosion would destroy everything in a hundred mile radius!”_

 _“What?!”_ Poppy gasps. _“What do we do?!”_

I gulp, feeling my breath quicken. “I...I think it's time we find out exactly how much power my parents gave me.” I manage to breathe deeply, focusing inward as Silas advances on me.

“Perhaps I was wrong, Tahira. Perhaps you're simply not up to the task!”

A strange sense of weightlessness steals over me, as if I'm floating on clouds. The tips of my fingers glow with energy, leaving bright smears of light as I pass them through the air in front of me. In one smooth motion, I grab Silas's hand and shoot straight up into the sky, oblivious to the radiation pouring off his body.

 _“Tahira!”_ Dax screams. _“What are you doing?!”_

“What else? I'm saving the city.”

 _“But what about you?!”_ Poppy protests.

“This is the only way. I'm sorry, Poppy...but this might be goodbye.”

 _“Tahira?! What do you mean this might be--”_ There's a crackle of static, and the signal drops as I soar over Northbridge, the city growing smaller beneath me...until finally, I'm clear. Clear of the earth...nearly clear of the atmosphere...

 _“Are you sure you want to do this, Tahira?”_ Marci asks.

“I'm sure, Marci.”

_“Okay. I'll let you know when...we're far enough away.”_

Silas strains against my grip, his skin starting to glow from within as the Prism energy builds inside him.

“Yes! You've finally claimed your birthright! Now join your power with mine!”

“What the hell are you talking about?!”

A spasm passes through him, a tear opening in his cheek, blinding light pouring through it. “Together, we'll be strong enough to traverse dimensions! Go beyond the limits of human science! Don't you see, Tahira? You're the key to all of this! The Prism Gate's energy wasn't strong enough to send me through to the other side. But with my liquid prism and your innate power, we can rip a hole in the very fabric of reality!”

“...How long have you been planning this?”

“Since I lost _Helena,_ Tahira! Earth couldn't save her. But perhaps another world can. Now that you've absorbed the energy of the Prism Gate, and I've pushed my body to its very limits, we may finally be strong enough to find out! And maybe, someday soon, my son will have a mother again.”

The tear in his cheek grows wider, the glowing light of the Prism eclipsing his face. I watch in horror as the light consumes him, spreading over his body and encasing him in a shimmering cocoon. Radiant beams of energy radiate outward, piercing the black veil of space, growing brighter and brighter until my vision is nothing but light. And just before the darkness, I have a vision of Northbridge below. Of my friends and the city's citizens staring up at an empty sky, searching for a sign of me. But I'm not there. Dax and Poppy call frantically for me. But their words don't reach me, and I cannot answer. ...They don't know where I am. They don't know if I'm alive.

...To be fair...I don't know, either. I'm drifting through a strange, dark dream, my body weightless and insubstantial as I float through the blackness and silence at the end of the world. Then...a voice comes through the void.

 _“Tahira!”_ Marci cries. _“Wake up! Please wake up!”_

I begin to realize that I can feel dusty stone against my cheek. Solid earth cradles my body. I blink, my eyes blurred as if I've been sleeping for centuries. But gradually, the world around me comes into focus. I'm surrounded by a strange alien landscape, where cliffs rise in impossible, sweeping shapes over a barren, rocky desert world. Where jagged crystals seem to grow like wildflowers in patches over the crater-marked plain. Everything is cast in a fuchsia light, from the ground to the sky to the twin moons to the crystals themselves. Only the strange, blue-tinted flames that catch along the landscape interrupt the monochrome. I sit up slowly.

“...What... _is_ this place...?”

Marci answers me, her voice small and frightened. _“I...don't know.”_

I slowly get to my feet and turn around, taking in the strange sights surrounding me.

“Well, one thing's for sure...we're not on earth anymore.”

 _“Tahira..._ ” Marci whimpers. _“...I'm...scared.”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tahira’s story is continued in Endless Summer Book 4: Daughter of Vaanu


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